Have You Forgotten
by LilyoftheValley4
Summary: After falling out three years ago, Frank and Nancy come together to try and help Nancy solve a case for the CIA. Frank finds himself doubting the case and Nancy's sanity. When Nancy goe's MIA, however, the Hardy's reunite with Bess to find her.
1. Prologue

**A/N**: First off I want to say that I'm sorry for starting another story when I have so many unfinished, but I do have a goal of finishing some of them before the summer is over, so please be patient. I really appreciate those that continue to review, because, really, I understand how annoying it is when someone doesn't update frequently enough for a story that you're interested in reading.

Okay, now some notes about this story. This Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Crossover is going to deal with some current day controversial and political topics. Now, I'm not overally political so I'm not going to go into great detail, but some references will be made that have affected many of our own lives. Here are some things I want you to keep in mind before you review.

1.) I DO support our troops. It's possible, I believe, to support the men and women who are fighting without supporting the President and his actions in initiating this war.

2.) I am NOT in ANYWAY trying to belittle, ANY events, such as 9/11 that the US has suffered.

3.) I am NOT trying to encourage ANYONE to change their beliefs or political views of President Bush. This is my own story and you're welcome to read it if you want to.

4.) I encourage ANYONE to point out any facts or inconsistencies that you may deem incorrect.

5.) I also am NOT a doctor. However, I am using the names and diagnosis of real diseases and drugs. I apologize if I use them incorrectly.

6.) PLEASE do NOT write reviews of how much you may think I am wrong or how horrible the story may be. I do not respect those kind of reviews. However, constructive criticism with a logical and thoughtful basis is appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the characters derived from either the Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys, or Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys Super-mysteries, however I do own the characters, as written here, that are not apart of any of the above mentioned books.

With all that said, I hope you all enjoy. I know it may seem like a lot for me to write, and probably has undoubtedly gotten you curious about why I've said them, but I said it in the hopes of keeping the fun atmosphere of writing fanfiction. So without further ado, on with the story.

Secretary of War, Dean Ridder, stopped in aggravation on CNN news after flipping through all fifty basic cable channels for the second time. After dropping the television remote he reached for the white bed controller and played with the gray buttons till he found a comfortable position for his bed. After straightening his sterile white sheets, he took a quick glance at his heart monitor before settling deeper into the mattress to relax.

"In other news, yet another one of the President's cabinet is in the hospital this week. Dean Ridder, serving as Secretary of War, entered the hospital yesterday for chest pains." Ridder laughed at the old picture they showed of him. His gray hair had a darker hue to it, and the area of baldness forming at the edge of his forehead had covered less area than it did now. More wrinkles decorated the area around his eyes and lips now; part of the stress of the job. The only part of him that remained the same was the sharp brownness of his eyes. People in the office always claimed that his eyes never missed a thing, giving him the nickname "Hawk Eye" amongst his friends.

"Jennifer Fleming held a press conference earlier this morning declaring that the source of the Secretary's pain is inconclusive but that he is doing well and will expect to return to office within the next few days. Of course, there's a slight uneasiness after the death of the Secretary of Interior, Michael Bernard, just last week. The Secretary had been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes three years ago, and entered the hospital after his blood sugar became abnormally high. Doctors at Georgetown University Hospital immediately diagnosed him with HHNS and began treatment. Unfortunately, none of the Secretary's past doctors had recorded his allergy to morphine, and when morphine was administered to help with the Secretary's pain, he went into anaphylactic shock and died."

Ridder's bowed his head slightly at the memory of his colleague. Bernard and him had always gotten along and had many friends within the cabinet. In fact, it was Bernard's incredible golf game that allowed him to really hit it off with the President, and Bernard had always been as good as he was competitive. The golf games between the two men seemed to be one of the few moments of normalcy when the two could forget for a few hours about running the country. In fact, as far as Ridder could remember, the President had never beaten Bernard, but the joy of each other's company kept them playing anyway.

"In other news,' the newswoman continued. "Another bombing in Iraq lost the lives of two American Marines." Ridder turned away from the news after hearing voices at the door. The next moment, a nurse walked in with a syringe in hand. Before the door closed, the Secretary caught a glimpse of two members of the Secret Service outside his door.

"Good morning, Secretary. How are you feeling this morning?" She asked him with a smile. Ridder smiled back her, taking in her long brown hair, blue eyes, and never ending legs with pleasure.

"Pretty good. Even better, if you're here to give me a sponge bath," the Secretary kidded.

The nurse seemed to be thinking it over, and then said, "I think I'll let Henry take care of you this evening."

"Ouch, harsh," the Secretary said with a slight laugh. "So what drugs are we administering today?" Ridder asked eyeing the syringe and thanking God it wasn't going into his arm and that it could feed into his IV. He had a thing with needles, though he never admitted it to anyone.

"Just some antihypertensives to help lower your blood pressure. You really should exercise more Secretary," the nurse said as she cleared the syringe of air bubbles and picked up the IV line. He watched as she dispensed all the contents before lying back down.

"You sound like my wife," the Secretary laughed.

The nurse smiled. "Well, she's right. I don't want to be seeing you in here for a heart attack."

She picked up his left wrist and placed two fingers there as she watched the second hand on her watch. Ten seconds later, she looked at the heart monitor with a frown. His heart rate was steadily increasing. She turned back to the Secretary and saw beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He'd ripped his left arm away from her grip and held it with an expression of pain.

"What's—what's happen—happening?" he asked, struggling for breath. By now the heart monitor had started beeping loudly.

"You're having a heart attack," the nurse said, looking at him fearfully. She rushed over to the door and yanked it open. She turned to the secret service men with frantic eyes. "Get a doctor now; he's having a heart attack!" She didn't even bother to see if they listened. She ran back over to the Secretary who was convulsing viciously on the table while gripping his chest over his heart. For once she didn't know what to do. She'd just given him drugs that would help slow his heart down and instead they'd initiated a heart attack. How was that possible?

"Rhonda, what happened?" The nurse, Rhonda, looked up at Dr. Melinda Herman with scared eyes.

"I came in here to give the Secretary prazosin, but as soon as I did, his heart rate began to increase."

"Get me 10cc's of Clonidine," Dr. Herman yelled. Rhonda ran over to the cabinet and looked through the labels. Rhonda found a small glass label with the drug's name on the front and quickly filled a syringe. She quickly proceeded to do the same procedure she did when she injected him with the antihypertensives. Both of them watched his heart monitor anxiously for some change, but a few seconds after the administration of clonidine the line on the monitor went flat.

"Get the cart!" Dr. Herman yelled as she reached into a drawer by the bedside. She removed a long plastic tube and quickly lowered the bed so that the Secretary was laying flat on his back. She tilted his head back slightly and peered down his throat, and taking the time to make sure that she cleared the vocal chords. Behind her, she heard Rhonda enter the room along with the grinding sound of wheels from the cart.

"Bag him," Dr. Herman ordered the moment the tube was in. Rhonda searched frantically for her a bag in the cabinets before finally pulling out a light blue plastic bag that was inflated to resemble a balloon. She attached the plastic tube at the end of the bag to the tube in the Secretary's throat and began to squeeze it every three seconds. Meanwhile, Dr. Herman reached over and charged up the crash cart.

"Clear!" Rhonda let go of the bag and Dr. Herman brought the paddles down on either side of the Secretary's chest. The shock caused his body to jump off the stretcher slightly. Dr. Herman observed a small spike in heart rate from the electric current before the line continued to be a straight line. As Dr. Herman charged up the machine again, Rhonda resumed her count.

"Clear!" Dr. Herman shouted. Once again, Rhonda let go, and the Secretary's body gave an unnatural jerk before settling in rhythm with the straight line. Four shocks and five minutes later, there was no change.

"Call it," Dr. Herman said stepping away from the Secretary's body and dropping the paddles on the cart.

"But, Doctor—" Rhonda protested.

"It's over. There's nothing more we can do." Rhonda finished her count and then let go of the bag. She slowly brought her hands down from the bag and to her sides, but she didn't look up from his body.

"9:53 a.m.," Dr. Herman said coldly when Rhonda remained silent. "Do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing administering the Secretary's meds? Michelle was supposed to be on duty."

Rhonda didn't take her eyes off the Secretary's face as she spoke. "Michelle had to take a call and asked me to do it. She gave me the syringe and everything."

Almost on cue, Michelle appeared at the door. She looked at Dr. Herman, Rhonda, and finally stopped at her motionless patient as she listened to the constant beep from the heart monitor. "What happened?" Michelle asked her face white.

"Why did you ask Rhonda to administer medication to _your_ patient?" Dr. Herman demanded.

"The White House was on the phone, asking about his condition, and my shift in the ER starts at 10 a.m. I didn't think I'd have time to do it myself so I asked Rhonda if she could give the Secretary his prazosin after she got done with Mr. Rodriguez," Michelle said timidly.

"Did you administer anything to Mr. Rodriguez?" Dr. Herman asked, turning to Rhonda. At the mention of Mr. Rodriguez, her face went white, but she remained silent. She didn't dare look up. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe what she'd done.

"Rhonda, did you give anything to Mr. Rodriguez?" Dr. Herman asked again impatiently.

"Yes," she said quietly. She very slowly brought her eyes up from the Secretary's unchanging face and met those of Dr. Herman. "Mr. Rodriguez was in for low blood pressure. I-I was supposed to give him proamatine and I was supposed to give the Secretary prazosin—I must have switched them." The room was silent. Dr. Herman closed her eyes and raised a hand to the bridge of her nose. She rubbed the spot tiredly.

"Michelle, go check on Mr. Rodriguez," Dr. Herman ordered, her eyes still closed. Michelle nodded and gave Rhonda a sympathetic glance before leaving the room. She knew she was out of the woods, but she knew she couldn't say the same for Rhonda.

As soon as Michelle left the room, she headed to the pharmacy. She removed her key card from her pocket, swiped it, and typed in the four-digit code. As soon as the LCD screen turned green, she opened the door and stepped in. After making sure that no one else was in the room, she removed a small bottle from her pocket and headed to the brightly lit fridge. It had at least ten shelves, all of which contained numerous bottles of different kinds of drugs. She opened the glass door to the refrigerator and placed the glass bottle from her pocket with all the other bottles with the label proamatine. She then removed a cell phone from her pocket and held down the number five key as she waited for the speed dial to take affect. Once she was connected she simply said, "It's done," before hanging up the phone and leaving the room.


	2. Greetings

Chapter 1

"All this security stuff is really getting ridiculous," twenty-four year-old Joe Hardy complained. "Toe nail clippers! I mean come on! What do they think I'm going to do, pinch everyone to death?"

His one-year older brother, Frank, chuckled. "You know it's for our own protection." The two brothers had just arrived at Dulles International Airport and were making there way through the terminal towards the pick-up area where they'd been told a car would be waiting for them.

"Sure, but you know what's going to happen. After this war is over and US airlines don't feel like a major target anymore, all these random searches will end until someone hides a bomb in their contact storage container and we'll be back to where we are now," Joe argued.

Frank shook his head, his dark brown hair barely moving out of place. "Too early to tell yet, and stop being sore about getting up at five."

"Fine, but if you ever consider getting us a flight before eight, I won't be on it," Joe threatened.

"I think that's us," Frank said, as they walked through the automatic glass doors. Lines of cars, taxis, and limousines rested against the curb as people loaded and unloaded bags and suitcases. A man about ten feet to the left of the door they had just came out of was holding up a white sign with the word "Hardy" on it. The man himself was dressed in a black suit with a complimenting black tie. Behind him and parked against the curb, was a long black limo with tinted black windows.

"Phew," Joe whistled. "The CIA knows how to travel in style. The FBI never gives us vehicles like this to travel in."

Frank rolled his eyes as they walked over to the chauffer, duffle bags over their shoulders. "I'm Frank Hardy and this is my brother Joe."

"Nice to meet you," the chauffer said switching the sign to one hand so that he could shake each of their hands in turn. "I hate to ask this, but may I see some identification?"

"Not a problem," Frank said, as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his FBI badge. He held it open for him to see and then waited as he verified Joe's.

"Not that I didn't believe you, but it's protocol. By the way, I am Nick Cunningham and I'll be your driver. May I take your bags?" The Hardy's handed Nick their bags. As he walked to the back of the limo, he pulled open the passenger door and the Hardy's took that as an invitation to find their seats.

The interior of the limo was decorated in a subtle tan. The seats were a light brown leather color, and a carpet had been placed down on the floor to match. Two wide seats rested near the back of the limousine with a small console in between them that contained a drink dispenser as well as cups and cup holders. Along the sides of the limo were more seats, broken up periodically by the doors. From one end of the limo to the other, however, there was at least eight feet of floor space.

"Nice," Joe murmured as he stepped inside and headed for the seats near the back. Frank took one of the seats by the side, and though impressed, it certainly wasn't his style, though he knew, his brother was eating it up. They felt the limousine shake slightly as Nick closed the trunk. After the sound of opening and closing the driver's door could be heard, Nick's voice suddenly filled the room.

"Let me be the first to welcome you, Agents, to Virginia. The ride to Langley is approximately forty-five minutes. Please enjoy the drinks located in the console in the back as well as the satellite television. The remote is also located in the console. If you need anything please feel free to ask by using the intercom system on the side wall."

"Frank," Joe said as he lifted up the console to reveal a supply of ice. "I think I'm switching agencies."

"I wouldn't get used to it," Frank scoffed. "The CIA has never been a willing recipient of the FBI's help. However, diplomatic they're being now; I doubt our reception at the agency is going to be as friendly as the greeting from our driver."

Joe shrugged as he took a sip from the coke he'd just measured out. "If I get to enjoy this for the next forty-five minutes 'til we get the cold shoulder, I'll be happy." Frank just shook his head in amusement as his brother hit a button and a twelve-inch television screen came from the ceiling revealing the current score for the Nationals/Yankees game.

1111

Forty-five minutes later, their limousine pulled up in front of the CIA building. After Nick gave them his number so that they'd call him when they were ready to go to their hotel, the two brothers walked up the steps and into the building. The first thing the brother's noticed when they walked in was the large seal with the infamous symbol of the CIA. Suppressed by the same feeling of awe the brothers got the first time they walked into the FBI building, they stood there for a second to take in the daily hustle and bustle of the CIA office.

"Uh, Frank, I think we're a little underdressed." Frank looked down at his pair of jeans and button-up short sleeve shirt before turning back to the outfits of some of the employees. Almost all the men were wearing full blue or black suites, while the women wore conservative skirts and dressy blouses. His brother's outfit wasn't much better, with jeans and a dark blue t-shirt with a faded set of white letters reading "FBI" over the left breast pocket.

"Well, not much we can do about it now," Frank answered. Together the brother's turned away from the seal and headed towards the front desk. Looking at the receptionist there who was wearing a blue blazer over a white blouse, and had her brown hair tied up strictly in a bun, Frank felt his self-consciousness over his outfit rising.

"May I help you?" She asked, looking at them with a clear expression of impatience.

Frank fumbled for his badge as Joe followed his lead. "Yes, we're Special Agents Frank and Joe Hardy of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We have a meeting with Director Lennox."

"One moment please." The brothers waited as she picked up a black headset from the desk and fitted it to head before dialing a four-digit number. The Hardy brother waited in silence for the receptionist to complete the call. Finally, when she fished she said, "Director Lennox is waiting for you. Room 532. Here are your visitor passes. Keep them visible at all times. The elevators are down the hall and past security."

"Thank you," Frank replied. The two of them headed down the hall until they were stopped by security and forced to go through metal decors. Luckily, they didn't have to worry about their guns, which they'd left in their suitcases. However, their phones were confiscated during their visit when they could pick them up when they left.

After successfully making it through security, Frank and Joe continued down the tiled hallway where they saw people on either side of them disappearing down long hallways with sterile white doors on either side. Once they reached the elevators, Frank hit the up button while they waited for the elevator to appear.

"So, any guesses to what all this is about?" Joe asked.

Frank shook his head. "I've been trying to think why the CIA would need our help and yet, bring in just the two of us, but I haven't come up with anything."

"Seems kind of hush, hush, don't ya think?" Joe asked as the elevator doors opened with a ding and a man and woman stepped out, files in hand. As soon as the elevator was empty, Frank and Joe stepped in. Being the closest to the buttons, Joe pushed the button for the fifth floor and the elevator doors closed. The two of them stood silent for a moment before Joe's curiosity got the better of him.

"Have you been thinking about her?" Joe asked carefully, keeping an eye on his brother's face.

Frank looked t his brother in surprise before he recovered and forced his face into his well trained mask. Unfortunately, the guilt in his eyes didn't subside as quickly. "What? Who? I mean…no."

Joe looked doubtful. Frank may have been trained to become detached and hide his emotions whenever the situation called for it, but the one time he couldn't put on a believable made-up exterior was when he talked about Nancy Drew.

"Come on, you guys haven't talked in three years. Now here we are at the headquarters of her office. You can't tell me honestly that you haven't wondered whether or not she's here." Frank didn't say anything, but swallowed hard as he thought of her. _Had it been only three years? _ Frank wondered. _It felt so much longer_.

"Well, whatever you say bro, but take some advice. If you see Nancy while you're here, I suggest you make an effort to apologize," Joe said, waiting for his brother's anticipated shield. He always jumped into defensive mode anytime Joe mentioned apologizing.

"What was I supposed to do, Joe? Just leave her? Nancy should have understood!" Frank insisted.

Joe just shook his head disapprovingly. One day he hoped his brother would see what he had done. Of course, Frank had three years to think about his decision and yet he still hadn't come to the realization that Nancy didn't understand and shouldn't have to. Joe had a feeling that if the situation had been reversed Frank wouldn't have been so understanding either, but Joe let the topic drop and remained silent as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened and the boys were once again greeted by another secretary.

"Room 532? We're Special Agents Frank and Joe Hardy." The secretary pointed down the hall to the right and after thanking her they proceeded down it. They found room 532 with ease and gave the door a quick knock.

"Come in!" A deep voice called from inside. Frank opened the door and walked in.

"Ah, you must be the Hardy boys," the director greeted. He was a chubby man with very little hair. What hair he did have was gray at the tips and white at the roots. A pair of reading glasses rested on his nose, but he removed them as he stood up to shake their hands. Just like everyone else they'd seen, Director Lennox wore a black suit with a matching tie, as well as a lanyard around his neck with his identification attached to it and clearly visible.

"I'm Director Robert Lennox. I'm glad you could fly here on such short notice. Please, have a seat," Director Lennox said, while taking a seat himself at his very organized desk. Joe and Frank took a seat at the two chairs in front of the desk and looked up at the Director expectantly.

"So, what brings us here, Director? No one would give us any details," Joe began.

Director Lennox took a deep breath. "Have you seen the news lately? Namely the news about the deaths of Secretary of Interior Michael Bernard and Secretary of War Dean Ridder?"

Frank nodded. "Yes sir, their deaths were both deemed accidental if I recall."

"Yes," Direct Lennox confirmed. "Secretary Bernard died of a severe allergy to morphine and Secretary Ridder died of a heart attack. Both entered the hospital less than a week a pat from each other, were admitted to different hospitals, and were being treated for relatively minor complaints."

A look of confusion passed between the two brothers. "Sir, I'm not sure I see the significance."

"One of my agents has been doing research. She believes that there may be a connection between the two deaths." Director Lennox said, looking as if he didn't believe in the prospect himself.

"What, like they weren't a coincidence?" Joe said. Lennox nodded. "What evidence has been found to support this?"

"None," Director Lennox said. "My agent believes there's one, but nothing has been found to confirm it. As far as anyone's concerned the deaths were an unfortunate coincidence."

"If I may say so, Sir, it doesn't sound like you put much faith in this theory," Frank pointed out.

"I really don't," Director Lennox admitted. "There's nothing to support it, but being post 9/11 and all, the board doesn't want to take any chances, so I have no choice but to allow this investigation to continue. I however, cannot afford to waste this agency's man-power on a futile search at the moment, I called the Bureau and asked them to help me out, and here you are."

"I see," Joe began. Frank gave his brother a sharp look, knowing that he was going to start into a tirade about how valuable their time was to waste. Luckily, Joe caught it and remained quiet before he could start.

"Sir," Frank said, trying very well to keep out the condescending tone that Director Lennox had so easily used with them. "If you have such little faith in these theories why bring this to the board at all and have your agent drop these theories so as not to waste any more time?"

"Unfortunately, I have a lot of respect for this agent's instincts, and knowing what I would be in for if I ignored her request to bring it before the board, I figured it was worth at least bringing it up. I didn't really think, however, that they would believe it, but it's better safe than sorry these days," Director Lennox said standing up. Frank and Joe followed suit.

"I'm going to get you in touch with—" Director Lennox froze as he heard a knock at the door. "I'm sorry, just a minute," he said to the Hardy's. "Come in!"

The next moment, a woman walked in wearing the standard navy blue skirt and white blouse with navy heels, but it was her unmistakable strawberry blond hair that caught the Hardy's attention.

"Director are you giving my case to the Bureau!" Nancy asked without seeing the Hardy's. After a few seconds of silence, she seemed to catch on that there were other people in the room, and those people caught her by surprise.

"Relax, Agent Drew," Director Lennox said calmly. "The Bureau is not taking your case. These are Special Agents Frank and—"

"We've met," Nancy said, eyeing Frank coldly.

"You've met?" The Director repeated confused.

"We solved cases back when we were detectives," Nancy said, biting her lip to keep from replacing the word "detectives" with "friends."

"Glad to hear it," Director Lennox responded, "because they will be helping you out with your case."

"I'm sorry Sir, but I'm afraid that it won't work out," Nancy insisted. The Director looked back in forth between Nancy and the boys. Nancy's eyes seemed to be looking right through Frank Hardy while Joe to be keeping an eye on them both like he expected a brawl to break out right then and there.

"Agent Drew," the Director said sternly. Nancy broke her intense gaze on Frank and turned to the Director as he addressed her. "You had me bring this case to the board and take their time to review it. They want to see what you find and they've even approved bringing more agents to the case." Nancy made a move to speak but the Director silenced her. "Now the Bureau has assigned these boys to your case. Don't disrespect the opportunity you're being given here. You need to put aside whatever differences you and the Hardys' have had to get to the bottom of this. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Nancy said quietly, keeping her eyes focused on anything but the people in the room.

"Good, now the Hardys' are under your charge. Debrief them and get to work. I want a report on my desk by the end of the week to see what progress you have made."

"Yes, Sir," Nancy repeated in a monotone voice before turning around and leaving the room. The Hardys' looked at the Director.

"You best follow her," Director Lennox said. "It was nice meeting you boys."

"You too, Sir," Frank replied. Frank and Joe left the room and entered the hallway just in time to see Nancy enter a room farther down the hallway.

"That could have gone better," Joe said sarcastically. "You're lucky Nancy didn't kill you right then and there."

"Shut up, Joe," Frank said tightly. Nancy's reaction had really taken him by surprise. He knew she'd been upset, but he didn't think that she'd try to get out of working with him. The hurt he'd seen in her eyes had been almost unbearable. He didn't think it was possible. It made him really wonder if he'd done the right thing, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized if the situation had happened again, he would do the same thing, or at least, he'd like to think he would.

"Hey, don't get snappy with me. I think you've found the perfect reason to apologize. This is going to be the longest case ever if you two don't find some way to be civil to each other," Joe pointed out.

"It's all her! I'm perfectly willing to be friends with her," Frank stated.

"Frank, when are you going to live up to what you did? You broke her heart. Maybe when you get off your chivalrous high horse you'll realize that," Joe argued as he stalked ahead of his older brother and entered the same room Nancy had.

When he came in, he found Nancy sitting at a rectangular, glass table in one of the eighteen chairs that surrounded the table. About a dozen or so manila folders covered the table and their contents covered any other available table space. She didn't look up when he came in, at least, not until he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"How you doing, Nan?" he asked sympathetically.

"I've been better, Joe," she murmured. "But thanks for asking." She suddenly stood up and took him in a hug. "I've missed you."

"Right back at you," Joe said hugging her back. Frank walked into the room to find his brother and Nancy embracing and instantly felt jealous. He wanted it to be him there in Nancy's arms, but by the look on Nancy's face when she saw him he knew that no hugs were in his future.

Nancy and Joe broke apart and Joe took a seat on the same side as Nancy, a few chairs down. Frank sat across from Joe.

"So what more can you tell us about the case, Nan?" Joe asked, becoming the mediator.

"I'm assuming Lennox told you about Bernard and Ridder?" Nancy confirmed. Frank and Joe nodded, though Nancy only seemed to be looking at Joe for confirmation. "Well, I got the hospital files for both men. Everything looked normal until I got to this page in Bernard's file." Nancy picked a piece of paper off the table and handed it to Joe.

"Looks like its been copied," Joe said handing it to Frank.

Nancy nodded. "Not only that, but look at the eighth line down." Frank narrowed his eyes and focused on the line Nancy was talking it.

"The line's narrower," Frank said after a minute.

"Something that doesn't happen with any other lines, on that chart," Nancy stated. "My guess is that information about Bernard's morphine allergy was erased with white out, and then copied so it wouldn't look noticeable. No doctor would be able to tell on a first glance that it had been copied to begin with.

"I also phoned the hospital. Turns out that notices of allergies are generally stapled into the file on a different colored paper, most commonly red, so doctor's can't miss it. However, there is no evidence of staple holes or tearing from tape anywhere on this folder," Nancy finished.

"I hate to be a downer here," Frank said. Nancy looked at him as if daring him to argue against her. He matched her gaze. "There are logical reasons for the lack of everything you're saying. For one, someone could have forgotten to staple in the allergy notice, and as a result, it fell out of the file. Or maybe no one ever wrote down his allergy so he never had a sheet made to begin with. The presence of a copied piece of paper in his medical file is suspicious, yes, but it doesn't conclude anything. Knowing that it is a copy, there are dozens of reasons one any one line doesn't show up perfectly from the copy machine. It doesn't prove anything. Not to mention that your theory most likely concludes that if this person changed the information in the file, it was done by someone posing as a doctor or a nurse. Correct me if I'm wrong, Nan," Nancy flinched at his use of her nickname, "but if there was someone posing as a doctor or a nurse, wouldn't that mean that person had been employed at both hospitals?"

Nancy glared at him as she picked up another file from the table and threw it in front of Frank. "Senator Patrick Montello. Entered the hospital September 5, 2005 with the flu. Declared dead September 10th after his lungs filled with fluid due to a case of pneumonia. Doctor's ruled he caught the pneumonia in the hospital and since his immune system was down it killed him."

Nancy reached over and picked up another file. "Representative Shirley Ostenotto. Entered the hospital September 31, 2005 for an asthma attack. Died October 2nd after she was treated with penicillin for a bacteria infection she didn't have. Her unknown allergy to penicillin triggered a severe asthma attack and she suffocated. Reports show that her test results were misfiled."

"And jumping ahead a little," Nancy said picking up another file. "Justice Thomas O'Connor. Came to the hospital February 1, 2006 for a physical and was declared in good health. Two days later he has a stroke from a blood clot, falls into a comma and dies on February 8th." The Hardy's looked at her stunned.

"I've found five other questionable cases with the possibility that there may be more out there. All of these people were admitted into different hospitals and attended to by different physicians. Not one of them has had the same doctor at any point in their lives, so no," she said looking at Frank. "I don't believe that it's any one person. I believe it's bigger than that."

Joe grabbed the files away from Frank and flipped through them quickly. "I don't know, I think Frank is right." Nancy looked at him in disbelief and Joe quickly continued. "Nancy, the majority of these people were old. Complications or accidents such as the ones you've found are still mere coincidences. The only clear tie these people seem to have to each other is that they work for the government, and hell, to work in the government in the first place, or at least in most of these positions, you need to have a significant amount of experience under your belt."

"How can you two ignore the facts," Nancy argued. "What if their placement in the government is their connection? I know it's not abnormal for people to die because they're old or because the doctors made a mistake, but if you look at these ten people as a group, as people in significant federal positions then the coincidences don't look like coincidences anymore."

"What's the motive?" Frank asked. "Why would someone, or people in general, be targeting government workers at all?"

"Terrorism?" Nancy suggested irritably. "The possibilities are endless."

"Slowly killing off government officials by making them look like accidental deaths is not flying an airplane into a building," Frank argued. "Terrorists want recognition so that there point is made efficiently. There's no clear reasoning here."

"Where's the reasoning behind killing thousands of innocent lives?" Nancy shouted back. "At least this way people who actually have an influence on the legal system are being targeted."

"Why are you trying to make something out of evidence that isn't even there?" Frank demanded.

"Why are you so adamant about dismissing even the mere possibility that something's going on?"

"Because you've got nothing, Nancy!" Frank yelled as he stood up and banged his fist on the table. "You've got nothing but a bunch of medical files from people who died in a hospital and happened to work for the government! No person in their right mind is going to look at the information you've obtained and say anything more than 'that's ironic'."

Nancy looked at Frank like she'd been slapped in the face. Nancy stared at Frank hard for a moment before reaching over and pulling the files away from Joe and gathering up every other paper that had scattered around the table. Joe meanwhile, was glaring at Frank.

"Nancy, I think what Frank meant was—"

"I don't want to hear it," Nancy said, her voice low and threatening. "Frank was kind enough to tell me exactly what both of you were thinking. Thanks for all your help, guys. I hope you enjoyed your stay in Virginia."

"Nancy, wait—" Frank tried as he grabbed her forearm to try and stop her from moving.

"Frank Hardy, you let go of my arm right now," Nancy said icily calm. With a sigh, Frank did as she asked and Nancy left the room without another word.


	3. Till the End of the Day

A/N: Yay! I'm thrilled with all the response! Thank you all. Sorry, I meant to have this chapter up last week, but we just moved into a new house, and it's been unbelievably hectic, especially now that I work 40 hours a week. Ugh, there are some serious disadvantages to growing up. Anyway, this chapter isn't over exciting, but I promise it will pick up soon.

Also, to answer the most asked question, Frank and Nancy's history will be revealed. I'm having fun at the moment just dropping hints, but you will find out the whole story, so don't worry.

Now, on with the show!

Chapter 2

"That was uncalled for Frank," Joe said as he and his brother picked up their cell phones from security.

"Joe—" Frank started tiredly.

"I mean, you could have at least waited a day for us to look into these deaths before you give her the third-degree about her having jack-shit," Joe accused.

"You heard her evidence," Frank growled, threatening to start yelling again. "You even agreed with me. She's trying to make up things that aren't even there." Frank sighed. "And I want to know why."

"Well, bro, as long as we've known Nancy, I've never found a reason to doubt her instincts," Joe said as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number Nick had given them. They stopped walking and stood on the steps leading up to the CIA office building. "With that said, give her time to cool off before you go over there and apologize. Hey Nick—" Joe said as soon as he heard the man's voice, not giving Frank a chance to respond. "Mmhmm…Yep…Okay…Thanks. Bye.

"He's on his way," Joe confirmed as he hung up the phone.

"Look, Joe, I'm not trying to be the bad guy," Frank said, continuing the conversation where Joe left off. "You're right, I've never known Nancy's instincts to be wrong, but I've never known them to be as out-there as the theory she's proposing now."

"True, but I'm sure Nancy is well aware that she has little evidence. Which most likely caused her to blowup like she did." As an afterthought, Joe added, "Of course, you putting in your two cents didn't help either."

"You agreed with me," Frank defended.

"That she had little evidence, not that she was completely wrong," Joe pointed out. "It's too early to tell if she's making a mountain out of a molehill yet."

Frank just nodded silently. He wasn't actually sure why he had reacted so harshly. Sure, Nancy wasn't a conspiracy theorist, but Frank Hardy was not the kind of person to immediately dismiss theories. It almost felt like to him, that he was searching for any reason to find fault; to show Nancy that she was wrong.

_She didn't leave you_, his own inner voice brought to light. _You left her_. Frank rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, hoping that the oncoming headache that was threatening would disappear. The guilt he'd suppressed during their argument, however, begin to rise from deep within his stomach, causing him to almost feel queasy. He would have liked to blame his conscious for recreating the image of Nancy's face when Frank had told her she had no evidence, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

"You do know you have two apologizes to make now?" Joe reminded. Frank glared at his brother as he wondered at what point the two of them had switched places.

2222

"You want me to wait out here?" Nick asked as he pulled up in front of Nancy's hotel. Frank had Joe to thank for arranging the ride. Technically, Nick had no obligations as their driver once he'd taken them to their hotel, but Joe's amazing subtlety resulted in Nick's offer to take him to her hotel.

It hadn't taken much to find out where Nancy was staying. A few calls to some people at the Bureau and Joe had located Nancy's hotel and room number. He'd considered asking someone at the CIA, but figured they didn't release that kind of information without good reason, and though Joe thought having his brother apologize for his pig-headedness was a good enough reason, he was sure the CIA wouldn't agree. So as soon as they'd arrived at the hotel gotten dinner, and changed, Nick had arrived and Frank was on his way to the Holiday Inn in downtown McLean.

"No," Frank said after a moment. He didn't know how long Nancy would tolerate him for, but he wouldn't make Nick suffer the wait, however long it may be. "I'll just grab a taxi. Thanks, Nick."

"No problem, Sir. Have a good evening," Nick said. Frank couldn't help but grin as the man pulled away. He never got used to anyone calling him "Sir." He didn't feel old enough to be a "Sir," but it was the way lower-class officers had addressed their superiors for years. In fact, there was a time when kids used to address their fathers as a way of showing respect.

"Kids these days," Frank murmured, and then groaned. He was beginning to sound like his grandfather. He definitely was way too young to be saying things like _that_. Frank sighed as he looked up at the fifteen-story building with the fluorescent red lights that made the hotel's chain obvious to anyone within a ten-mile radius. He'd stalled long enough. Feeling as if he was meeting his doom, Frank opened the glass door and walked into the lobby.

"Good evening, Sir. Can I help you with anything?" Frank waved off the woman at the front desk who called out to him as he walked in and towards the elevators. He looked at the numbers on the elevators to see what floor they were on before reaching over and pushing the button to call for an elevator. He flipped over his hand and reread the room number he'd already memorized. _1047_, he repeated mentally. Just as he flipped his hand back over, the elevator opened and Frank stepped in, pushing the button for the tenth floor.

He stood in the elevator tapping his foot nervously. He didn't remember ever being so nervous, especially around Nancy. Frank couldn't believe that just four years ago, he and Nancy had graduated college. Nancy finished with a degree in Criminal Justice and a minor in Linguistics. Frank took the engineering route, dealing specifically in computers, with a minor in Linguistics as well.

Before graduating, Frank soon found out that he and Nancy seemed to be heading in the same direction. Both of them submitted applications to the Bureau. Shortly after graduating, Nancy received her acceptance letter and got in touch with Frank.

"_Hey, Nan," Frank answered with a smile as he took the phone from his brother. _

"_Hey," Nancy giggled barely able to contain her excitement. "So, aren't you going to ask why I'm calling?"_

_Frank chuckled and decided to humor her. "Okay, Nancy, why are you calling?"_

"_Well…I made it!" She shouted, jumping in the air like a child._

"_You did? Well, congratulations, then," Frank said with constrained enthusiasm; just enough to sound happy, but limited so that she'd ask what was wrong. _

"_You don't sound that excited," Nancy said. Frank smiled. He was so glad that she couldn't see his face right now. _

"_Well, it's just—" He paused long enough for her to jump to conclusions._

"_You didn't make it, did you?" Nancy asked the joy dropping out of her voice. Frank couldn't take it. He burst out laughing leaving a bewildered Nancy to stare at the phone. "I'm sorry, Nan," Frank said calming down. "I was trying to fake you out. I made it too. I really am excited for you. For us."_

_Nancy_ _found herself laughing as well. "You better learn to put on a more convincing act if you're going to have to fake your emotions when it counts."_

"_You have no idea. If you'd actually been here, there was no way that would have gone on as long as it did. Besides," Frank said mischievously. "If I get in trouble, can't I always count on Nancy Drew to be my back-up?"_

_Nancy_'_s smile widened. "Always."_

The beeping of the elevator broke Frank out of his thoughts. It was much easier, then. Neither of them had a care in the world, and despite their dealings with bad guys on cases, they still assumed a romantic view on what the life of an agent would be like with high-speed chases, fancy gadgets, saving the world, getting the girl and always living happily ever after. One of Frank's first missions taught him about the reality of the job, but he didn't want to think about that. Nancy's door loomed and in front of him and having no idea what he'd say when he saw her, he knocked on the door.

2222

"Okay, so you know Stevens?" Her partner, Peter Denson asks. Nancy nodded as she brought a fork covered in long flat pasta noodles with alfredo sauce to her mouth. "Well, while on a mission he gets dancing with this girl while waiting for a drop to take place. Anyway, so being the guy he is, he ends up moving his hand down and pinching her butt." Nancy eyes widened. "Well, she'd have none of that!" Denson said with a laugh as he thought of how his own story ended.

"Before he realized what she was doing, she punched him in the face and knocked him out cold." Nancy broke out laughing. "When he didn't respond on coms Keith thought he'd been compromised and made the drop. They dragged Stevens back to the van and when he came to, he told them that someone attacked him, but security tape at the ball tells a different story," Denson finished with a wink as he took a sip of his wine.

Nancy broke out laughing as she put her fork down and reached for her wine as well. When her laughter subsided she took a sip and put down the glass just in time to see her partner finish the last swallow of his own.

"Want more?" Nancy offered. "I ordered another bottle and it's already chilled," Nancy tempted.

"What the hell," Denson relented. "Who knows when I can enjoy such good food and good company again."

Nancy smiled as she stood and walked towards the kitchen area of the two-bedroom suite she was sharing with her partner. "Better come back in one piece, too," Nancy threatened. "I don't want to lose my best ego booster." Denson laughed lightly just as a knock came from the door.

"Expecting someone?" Denson asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Nancy said. "Probably for you. Didn't you say Denise was bringing over the rest of Crucheque's file over tonight?"

"Right," Denson said getting up and jogging towards the door.

"Hey, Den—" Denson stopped in mid-sentence when he saw that in place of Denise was a man with dark brown fair. "Sorry, I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?"

The man seemed surprised and confused. "Umm…I was wondering—I'm looking for Nancy Drew?" he stuttered.

"Sure, come on in." Frank stepped in hesitantly, taking in the large suite and the dinner set for two. His eyes searched for Nancy.

"Was it Denise?" Nancy asked, turning around, a bottle of wine in her hand. Her eyes met Frank's and she froze in place. The wine bottle never leaving her hands, and her posture looking like it had been frozen in a picture. A hard defensive look entered her eyes.

"Nan?" Denson asked, looking with uncertainty between the two of them and wondering if he'd done the right thing in letting this man in.

"What are you doing here?" Nancy demanded, finally moving, and slamming the bottle on the counter a little harder than necessary.

"I-I, uh, I came—Am I interrupting something?" He asked, unable to stop himself from trying to figure out who this guy was.

Nancy's eyes narrowed. "Yes, I only take appointments," she answered sarcastically.

"Maybe I should leave you two alone—" Denson murmured clearly uncomfortable as he shifted towards the door to leave.

"No, Frank's the one leaving," Nancy said pointedly.

"No," Frank argued firmly, snapping out of his unease as he remembered the case and why he was here. "Nancy, it's really important that we clear things up. It will only take a few minutes and then you can get back to your—your um, date," Frank said with a swallow. He looked at Nancy for confirmation or what he was secretly hoping, denial, but she remained impassive. He walked confidently over to the front door and held it open for Nancy. Nancy studied him for a second before walking out into the hallway. Frank followed and pulled the door shut behind him. She crossed her arms and waited expectantly for him to begin.

"Nan, I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier," Frank begin. "Though I still believe in what I said, the way I said it was wrong, and especially unfair to you, and I'm sorry."

"Fine, are we done?" Nancy asked irritably.

Frank frowned. "I don't think you've forgiven me."

Nancy raised her hands and brought them down so they slapped against her thighs, and made her soft flowery skirt, swish. "Because I haven't, Frank. Okay, I haven't. You've never worked so hard to prove me wrong before. Hell, you've already humiliated me in front of my boss. Does it really make you feel better to make me look stupid in front of your brother? Like I don't know what I'm doing? News flash, Hardy, I'm an agent too. I was a detective, just like you. Not only can I see what's not there, but I can see what's there. I don't need you to hold my hand and lead me down some worn out path. I'm asking questions and finding answers just fine on my own." Nancy turned to move back inside, but Frank held her back without fear.

"Hey, that's not fair," Frank protested. "Now, I'm sorry about what happened in the office, but honestly Nancy, that was all you. And I already told you I was sorry for being so hard on you. My intention wasn't to humiliate you. Joe and I both know you're good at what you do, but Nancy, what's pushing you hard on this case? Normally even you wouldn't be so quick to assume that something's there without proof, and you know you don't have strong proof. I know you do."

Nancy looked away, debating whether or not to tell him. To say anything; whether it would make a difference. _No, _she decided. _He's not the same Frank Hardy I've always known_. She pulled away from him. "Well, you know what, Frank? Sometimes you know less than you think you do. I don't need you questioning ever piece of evidence I bring to light. That's what I have my damn Director for. I need someone who wants to help me."

"I want to help you," Frank insisted. Nancy looked at him. The honesty in his eyes made her remember how they used to be. The promises they made. She felt herself breaking as emotions she hadn't let surface since he'd left began to flood through her body. She needed to break away from. Put distance between them. Nancy stepped back, breaking the gaze.

She cleared her throat lightly as a way to clear her thoughts. "I've heard that before." Nancy wanted to kick herself for the tremor she let break the strength of her words. She hoped it'd gone unnoticed, but Frank's face looked taken aback by the sudden rush of emotion.

"Nancy…" Frank tried, but he seemed unable to find the words. Her eyes wouldn't meet his and he needed her strength to continue.

"Leave me alone, Frank," Nancy said finally. This time her voice was steady and she left no trace of the emotions she'd revealed just seconds before. "Please, just leave me alone." Frank watched her for a moment longer. She met his gaze for a short period before she opened the door and entered her hotel room. This time, Frank made no move to stop her.

2222

"_How do you feel?" Frank asked as he caught up with Nancy as she was walking back to her bunk. Nightfall had been about an hour ago and the rain that threatened all day was finally falling in shimmers around them._

_Nancy groaned as she turned around to face him. She was completely soaked. The hair that fell from her ponytail clumped together around her face. Her clothes clung to every curve of her body, so much so, that Frank could see the outline of her sports bra through their assigned gray t-shirts and matching shorts._

"_It hurts everywhere," she huffed, "and it's only the first week."_

_Frank laughed somewhat nervously as his eyes broke contact with her body. "Yeah, don't worry, though. It'll get better. Or, so I hope." _

_Nancy as well was having a hard time turning away from Frank's chiseled chest and muscular legs. Their time in the sun did much to darken his skin into a sexy deep tone. "You've gotten quite a tan, Hardy," Nancy finally said after a moment of silence._

"_Yeah, sure," Frank said looking at his arms. "Just don't let me take off this shirt. You'll see how white my stomach is." Frank meant it to be a joke, but Nancy's cheeks blushed at the mention of him with his shirt off. Nancy could feel her cheeks blushing against the cold rain and prayed that Frank couldn't read her thoughts at the moment._

"_You know, Drew. It's raining," Frank mentioned as if they were someone viewing it from inside a cozy house instead of people actually standing outside in it._

_Nancy rolled her eyes, her blush fading from her cheeks. "Really? Didn't notice. Actually, though, it feels really nice," Nancy admitted. _

"_Watch this," Frank said secretively as he stepped away from Nancy, the mud around his feet making slurping noises as he stepped away._

"_Frank…" Nancy called out at him. He just smiled and continued walking away. Then all of a sudden, he broke into a run. When he'd build his speed enough, he brought his legs about shoulder-length apart like a pair of half-opened scissors. Then he planted his feet and smiled at her as the wet mud kept his forward momentum even though he'd stopped running. Suddenly, he lost his balance and found himself doing a face plant in the mud._

_Nancy broke into a fit of laughter. Laughing even harder when he lifted his head up and saw how drastically the white of his eyes contrasted with the mud covering his face. He spat some mud out of his mouth, unsuccessfully as the dirt crunched unpleasantly between his teeth. Then he propped his head with one arm, like he was posing on the beach. _

"_Meant to do that," Frank explained as he attempted to reclaim some dignity. _

"_Sure, as a way of getting a facial right?" The rain began to dribble the mud in streaks down his face. "You look like you're melting."_

"_You know what, Drew," Frank began before his arm suddenly snaked out, grabbing her hand. She moved forward in surprise and tripped over him, falling in the mud right beside him. _

"_Frank Hardy!" Nancy spat, her face now matching his as she too attempted to remove the mud from her mouth. "I'm going to kill you!" _

"_You outta be more careful. Mud's very slippery," Frank said ginning widely._

_Nancy glared at him and then let her glare slowly fade into a mischievous smile. "You're right, Frank, I should be more careful." Frank looked at her confused for a second, not realizing that her left hand was digging into the mud till she had a good handful. At the end of her sentence, she whipped her hand around and dumped her handful of mud thoroughly into his hair, taking the time as well to feel its wet softness before she suffocated it with mud._

_Frank shot up quickly and looked at her in surprise. "Oh you're going to pay for that one, Drew." Nancy watched as Frank reached out with one of his own hands to collect a gooey handful of oozing mud. She worked hard to get to her feet as quickly as she could so she could get away from him._

"_No, Frank," Nancy protested. "Stop right there!" As soon as she found her balance and was about to make a run for it, Frank took her down at the legs and she fell backwards into the mud with Frank on top of her. However, Nancy was now thoroughly covered from head-to-toe with mud. Frank's meager handful no longer looked so intimidating._

_Realizing he no longer had a weapon, he focused more on the position they were in and his heart raced. He looked over at Nancy's face, and he was sure, if her cheeks weren't covered in mud, he would be able to see her blushing._

"_I think we should get inside," Nancy whispered, struggling to get out from under him. Frank nodded, his heart still pounding as he worked to stand up and then help Nancy up. They stared at each other for a moment. Neither of them having a clean spot on their body and neither of them really caring, but at that moment, something passed between them. What started out as playful banter between two friends seemed to explode in a fury of emotions that were suppressed for too long. Electricity that she'd never felt so strong before, and yet, Nancy felt it necessary to break the current. She let her eyes focus on the ground before she looked up and focused on something behind Frank so that she wouldn't have to look him in the eyes._

"_I'm going to shower and get to bed. You should too. See you in the morning." With that Nancy jogged off towards her room, while Frank stood there watching her._

"_Goodnight, Nancy," he whispered to no one in particular. He stood there for a minute longer and then took off to his own room. _

2222

"How'd it go?" Joe called from the coach as soon as Frank walked into the door, but he didn't need to have asked if he'd gotten a chance to look at his brother's face. Frank stepped into the room a few seconds later and Joe looked up from the television while simultaneously stretching out his remote filled hand and muting it.

"I don't want to talk about it," Frank said as he plopped down on the coach and putting his elbows on his thighs so he could rest his face in his hands.

"Did you apologize?" Joe asked.

"For losing my temper earlier," Frank answered.

"I see," Joe said disapprovingly.

"She had another guy there," Frank cried in frustration. "They were having dinner."

"Did you ask her who he was?"

"No, but—"

"Then don't jump to conclusions," Joe said with exasperation. "You're looking for an excuse not to say something—"

"No, I'm not!" Frank shouted as he got to his feet. "I didn't do anything wrong!" Joe looked as his brother but didn't say anything while Frank took to pacing. "I think I should go home."

"No," Joe said harshly. "We have a job to do and we're going to do it, and honestly, the only person that is making this hard for you is yourself. You could end this thing with Nancy if you just apologized. Showed her that you at least care about her feelings. I don't know who this guy is that you saw her with tonight, but I can tell you that she is not over you. She wouldn't be so angry if she was. In fact, the reason she's probably giving you so much shit is because she pissed for still having any feelings for you. So, while you're here pitying yourself for the situation that you created, maybe you should take a little time to consider _her_."

Frank stared at his brother long and hard as he took in Joe's words. "She told me to leave her alone," Frank muttered. He wanted desperately to believe that Nancy still had feelings for him, but the mixed signals and obvious distaste for him seemed to be strengthening his doubts.

Joe stood up and turned off the television. "My last piece of advice," Joe said as he threw the remote on the table. "Fight for her. You gave up once, don't do it again." With that said, Joe left his brother standing in front of the couch as he closed the door to his bedroom.


	4. In Search of the Truth

A/N: Thanks guys for the awesome reviews. I'd love to see it continue! Thanks again! Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Nancy walked slowly but with authority through the hospital. Her black slacks, light blue blouse, and matching black jacket made her look like an accomplished worker and beautiful at the same time. Her lose French braid kept her hair out of her face and an open familiarity. She walked to the reception desk, badge already in hand, and her gun hidden in her belt underneath her black jacket. It's presence still intimidated her at times.

"I am Agent Nancy Drew with the CIA, I would like to speak with whoever's in charge please." The nurse in purple scrubs with magical like designs of yellow wizard hats, wands, and blasts of fireworks looked at her with surprise before reaching for a nearby phone. A few words were exchanged that Nancy couldn't hear but a few minutes later, a woman in a standard white lab coat appeared.

"Agent Drew I presume?" She created stretching her hand out for Nancy to shake. Nancy nodded. "I'm Dr. Melinda Herman, Chief Resident. What can I do for the CIA?"

"Is there some place more private we can talk?" Nancy asked.

"Of course." Dr. Herman led the way down the hall, her heels clicking with every step. She slowed her pace and then opened the door to a small conference room and closed the door behind her.

"Please have a seat. Could I get you a coffee or anything?" Dr. Herman asked.

"No thank you, I'm alright. Dr. Herman, I came down here to discuss Secretary Dean Ridders."

Dr. Herman frowned. "A horrible incident, yes, but I'm afraid I can't go into details. You know the rules."

"I do," Nancy said. "However, until the official request for the Secretary's medical file is completed, I was hoping you would allow me to get in touch with anyone who was attending to Secretary Ridder during the time he was in your care."

Dr. Herman's expression narrowed slightly at the agent's directness. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you, and I don't appreciate you coming in here and demanding to waste the time of my nurses. Secretary Ridder's death was accidental and unfortunate. The nurse who was found responsible was fired immediately."

"I apologize if I seemed demanding," Nancy said, trying a new tactic. "But the CIA wants to verify that this hospital did everything in their power to help prevent the death of Secretary Ridder. The CIA recognizes that the actions of one individual resulted in the initiation of the Secretary's heart attack and that was in turn, dealt with, however, for our records, we feel it's necessary to thoroughly investigate the Secretary's treatment. Hopefully, this will help remove any doubts people about the outstanding reputation of this hospital."

Dr. Herman eyed Nancy warily, but then sighed. "Fine, however, you will not receive the Secretary's file without the proper documentation."

"Thank you, Dr. Herman. I appreciate your cooperation," Nancy said with an understanding smile. "Is there currently anyone on duty who dealt with the Secretary's case that I could speak with?"

"I was treating the Secretary during his stay here. As I've already stated, I will not go into detail about his treatment," Dr. Herman, said crossing her arms.

Nancy eyed the doctor, slightly annoyed. "Anyone else?" She pressed.

"Michelle Banks was the nurse in charge," Dr. Herman glanced at her watch. "She's down in the ER now."

"I thought the nurse in charge with the Secretary's case was fired?" Nancy questioned.

"She was," Dr. Herman confirmed. "However, it was Rhonda Cunningham who administered the drug that initiated the heart attack." Nancy opened her mouth to ask another question when Dr. Herman's beeper went off. Dr. Herman moved her coat to the side and revealed the source hooked to her belt. She glanced down at the LCD screen and then looked back up at Nancy.

"I'm sorry Agent Drew, but I have to address this call. Someone at the nurse's station in the ER can take you to Michelle."

"Thank you, Dr. Herman, you've been a big help," Dr. Herman nodded distractedly and left without saying good-bye. Nancy followed Dr. Herman's path for a short ways before diverting to the elevator in order to go downstairs to the ER. While the elevator proceeded downwards Nancy let her mind wander to the events of last night and she shook her head.

Frank had come thinking that she would be happy to see him; like three years worth of not talking just happened because letters were lost in the mail or because of dozens of other viable excuses. That she would have so easily forgiven him. _He broke my heart_, she told herself. _And he doesn't care. _

Nancy shook the thoughts out of her head as soon as the elevator doors opened, reminding where she was and why she was there. She stepped out into the bustling corridor of doctors in conversation with each other, complaining patients, and exhausted residents looking at there umpteenth chart for the day.

"Excuse me," Nancy said, addressing a tired looking African American woman at the desk.

"Please fill out these forms and we'll be right with you," she said pushing a clipboard towards. Nancy pulled out her badge.

"I'm looking for one of your nurses. Dr. Herman said I could find her down here." The nurse studied the badge for a second before nodding.

"Who you looking for?" She asked.

"Michelle Banks," Nancy stated. The nurse raised an eyebrow curiously.

"I'll page her for you," she said going towards the phone, saying a few words, and coming over once again, the curiosity still present. "Why do you need Michelle?"

"I've just got some routine questions to ask," Nancy stated vaguely. The nurse looked unimpressed.

"Mmhmm. You're just trying to stir up trouble. Well, I'm just going to tell you this about her character. That girl does this job incredibly well. Has come into work at the drop of a dime and stayed to work overtime without pay, if need be. Never seen a more kind and patient woman. So whatever you're really here to question Michelle for, I suggest questions are all you ask, because she ain't no criminal."

Nancy smiled. "I'm not looking to get anyone in trouble. As I said, just a few questions and that's it. I'm not looking to put her chains." The nurse regarded her suspiciously despite Nancy's words but was stopped from continuing when a young girl with light blond hair, blue eyes, and unblemished skin came up in simple, but somehow flattering green scrubs. She looked like the stereotypical California dream girl.

"You rang?" Michelle joked to the nurse Nancy had been speaking to.

"This woman would like a word from you. She's CIA." Nancy watched the girl carefully and saw something briefly pass across Michelle's face but whether it was fear, confusion, or surprise Nancy couldn't gauge.

"Of course," Michelle stated without hesitation. "Could you cover for me, Kim?'

"No problem, darlin'," the nurse said, still eyeing Nancy as Michelle lead them down the hall.

"I'm sorry, we don't have any good places to sit and chat like upstairs. We'll have to speak in one of the exam rooms," Michelle said as she reached one of the doors on the right.

"That's all right," Nancy said as Michelle held the door open and waited till Nancy was in before closing the door and coming inside herself.

"I hate to be rude, but do you mind if I see your badge?" Michelle asked shyly.

"Not at all," Nancy said, once again removing it from her coat pocket. Michelle looked at it carefully for a moment before nodding her head to show that she was done.

"What can I do for you, Agent Drew?" Michelle asked.

Nancy crossed her arms low against her stomach. "I'm here investigating the death of Secretary Dean Ridder. He was a patient of yours, correct?"

Michelle frowned and let her eyes drop to her shoes. "Yes."

"How old are you?" Nancy asked, deciding to ease the blow of her question.

"Twenty-five," Michelle muttered, not looking up.

"Are you a doctor?" Nancy asked.

"In training. I'm a first-year resident."

"What sort of work does that entail?" Nancy asked.

Michelle laughed softly and let her eyes meet Nancy. "Doing everything doctors don't want to do."

Seeing that Michelle was again, relaxed, Nancy once again decided to ask about the Secretary, but more gently. "Could you tell me what happened the morning of the Secretary's death?"

Michelle gave a deep sigh. "The White House had called that morning—"

"About what time?" Nancy asked, slowly pulling out a notebook and pen.

"Around, 9:30 I believe. They wanted an update on the Secretary's condition."

"What'd you tell them?" Nancy asked

"That we'd been unable to determine the cause of the Secretary's chest pains but we were running a few more tests and working out a healthier routine for the Secretary to follow in terms of exercise and eating to reduce the potential for heart attacks," Michelle stated.

"Besides chest pains, were there any other irregularities about the Secretary's health?" Nancy asked.

Michelle shook her said. "For a man in his condition and with the symptoms he was presenting, no."

"What do you mean?" Nancy asked, hoping she'd elaborate more.

"He had high blood pressure and cholesterol, but that is generally in the same package of not eating and exercising the right way."

"Alright, so what happened after you got off the phone?" Nancy asked, feeling that there was nothing of importance in that line of questioning.

"Well, while I was on the phone, I noticed how late it was getting," Nancy looked confused and Michelle elaborated. "As a resident, I have to get a little experience in all the fields. The last couple months have been my trial run in the ER and my rounds started at ten. So, I saw Rhonda—"

Nancy looked up from her pad. "Rhonda Cunningham?'

Michelle nodded. "I was supposed to give the Secretary his morning dosage of prazosin, it's a antihypertensive to help reduce the Secretary's blood pressure, but I didn't think I could finish the call and still have time to make it to my shift, so I gave Rhonda the syringe I'd filled up earlier and asked her to give it to the Secretary. She agreed." Nancy nodded.

"While I was on the phone however, one of the Secret Service men who are constantly stationed outside of the Secretary's door came over asking for a doctor. As soon as I got off the phone, I went to see what was going on." Michelle closed her eyes.

"Dr. Herman was placing the paddles back on the crash cart. The Secretary's heart monitor was a flat line." Michelle's eyes began to water.

"What happened?" Nancy asked.

"Rhonda had another patient she was taking care of for low blood pressure. She went to see him before she went to see the Secretary. She accidentally gave him the prazosin, which did not hurt him, but she gave the Secretary proamatine." Michelle let a tear drop and she reached for a paper towel over the sink to dab her eyes. "I'm sorry, excuse me."

"It's alright," Nancy said. "But what's proamatine?"

"It increases blood pressure. We only use it for patients who have low pressure and in small amounts, but if given to someone who already has high blood pressure, it wouldn't take that much of the drug to in—initiate a heart attack," Michelle stuttered.

"So, Ms. Cunningham injected the Secretary with proamatine which initiated a fatal heart attack?" Nancy confirmed.

Michelle nodded once again and sniffled. "He was the first patient I ever lost," she said quietly.

"I'm really sorry," Nancy soothed. She gave Michelle a few minutes to recover before speaking again. "I'd like to get in touch with Rhonda. Do you happen to know where she is?"

Michelle shook her head. "We weren't that close, but we worked well together. Kim or one of the other nurses at the desk might know."

"Thank you, very much, Michelle," Nancy said walking over to the door.

"No problem, and I'm sorry for falling apart in front of you," Michelle with another sniffle. "I can't help but feel that it was my fault. If I'd taken him his meds, done my job, he'd still be alive."

"Don't think like that," Nancy responded. "It was an honest mistake. You did what you would've done for any other patient. It wasn't your fault that things turned out the way it did."

"Thank you, Agent Drew," Michelle said with a small smile.

"Anytime, and please, call me Nancy," she insisted.

"Okay." Nancy said good-bye and made her way to the front desk. A few words with a nurse other than Kim, and Nancy had all of Rhonda's information. She hopped into her rented tan Ford Explorer and made her way into traffic. Just as she was turning onto sixty-six, her cell phone rang.

"Nancy speaking," she answered, recognizing the number as someone from headquarters.

"Nancy, finally." Nancy smile fell slightly hearing Joe's voice. She knew what was coming.

"Hey, Joe," her voice sounded weak and slightly timid to her own ears.

"Where have you been? We've been trying to get in touch with you all morning. You didn't answer at home, your cell, and no one here knows where you are!" Joe said disapprovingly.

"I needed to take my partner to the airport this morning and thought I'd do some investigating on the way back," Nancy stated reasonably.

Nancy heard Joe sigh on the other end. "Okay, Nancy, just next time, please tell someone. It's a good thing to get into the habit of doing. That's it, that's my lecture, I promise," he said in response to Nancy's annoyed rush of air that she made no attempt to block as a line of static filled the earpiece.

"Good, because I don't take lectures lightly," Nancy joked.

"I'll keep that in mind," Joe laughed. "So, find out anything good?"

"Got more info about the Secretary's murder. I'll tell you about it when I see you," Nancy explained.

"And when will that be?"

"Give me another hour. I'm going to visit someone."

"Yeah, and I'm sure by 'visit' you mean question. I'd feel better if I knew where you were going, Nan. Just in case," Joe insisted.

"I'm a big girl, Joe," Nancy said, more annoyance creeping into her voice than she wanted.

"I know, Nan, but just, humor me," Joe pleaded.

"Name's Rhonda Cunningham," Nancy relented. "Lives in Centreville and is said to be the one responsible for the Secretary's death."

"Fine, if you're not going to tell me anymore than that, at least keep your cell phone on and with you," Joe said.

"Fine."

"Anything you want Frank and me to do from this end?" Joe asked.

Nancy thought for a moment as she moved into the right lane with one hand. "Um, just research. Find anything and everything you can on Dr. Melinda Herman, Michelle Banks, Rhonda Cunningham, and Secretary Dean Ridder himself. I want to know how these people came to work together and whether or not any of them knew the Secretary personally before he checked into the hospital. Look into any people who may have a grudge against the Secretary," Nancy said, thinking aloud and giving orders at the same time.

"I see how it is. We get stuck with the desk work while you get to play around the field," Joe said, trying to get sympathy. "Don't worry, we know the drill."

Nancy laughed. "I don't doubt it. I never thought you FBI boys saw much outside the office."

"Very funny," Joe answered sarcastically. "See you back at the office."

"Yep," Nancy said, about to hang up, but Joe stopped her.

"And Nancy, call if you're going to be late," Joe insisted. Nancy rolled her eyes.

"Yes, _Mom_," Nancy sighed as she closed her phone just in time to take the right exit and head into Centreville.

3333

"_How are you doing?" Nancy smiled. Ned's voice was so soft and reassuring. It reminded her so much of home._

"_Not bad seeing as how I get yelled at twenty-four seven, have barely enough muscles left to walk comfortably, and am seriously questioning their definition of sleep," Nancy complained._

_Ned chuckled. "You're choice. Just remember that." Nancy felt a slight jab as she remembered their argument. Ned did not want Nancy to join the FBI. They'd been talking about marriage after college since Ned had successfully found a job at a Veritech in Chicago. He was ready to settle down, and he wanted to settle with Nancy._

_Nancy however also wanted to pursue a career, as an agent. Ned worried enough about her during her cases that he didn't think he could handle her life as an agent, worrying where she was, whether she'd make it home, and all the people who wouldn't hesitate to kill her for what she was doing. Nancy hadn't fully convinced Ned of all her reasoning, nor had she gained his full support, but he'd accepted it as something she really wanted to do._

"_I know, but I honestly knew what I was getting into. It helps that I have someone to help me through it though," Nancy said._

"_Right, how's Frank doing?" Ned asked tensely and without interest. He did not like the idea that the one man who shared Nancy's love for detective work had also joined her in her mission to become an agent, giving him the advantage in not only being there when Nancy needed him but for completely understanding why she was there._

"_Good. He excelled in our hacking course. More than I can say for myself, but that's okay. I still have plenty of time to get better," Nancy said with a slightly overwhelmed sigh._

"_I want to come visit you," Ned pleaded. _

"_Ned, we've been through this," Nancy said with frustration. "I'm dying to see you too, but it's not allowed. I don't want to risk getting kicked out."_

"_They'll never know. You could use some of your skills to sneak me in," Ned coaxed._

"_I can't. Please don't take this the wrong way, Ned, but it's not worth the risk. This is something I really want to do. This is my future; I'm not going to lose it all. Please understand that," Nancy said._

"_Yeah, okay, Nancy," Ned said feeling slightly hurt. "I just, I just miss you."_

"_I miss you too," Nancy glanced behind her. "I'm sorry, Ned, but there's a line for the phone. I'll try to call you later this week."_

"_Okay. I love you, Nan," Ned said._

"_I love you, too," Nancy whispered back. Nancy heard the click of the coin fallinf deeper into the machine as soon as she hung up the phone._

"_How's Ned?" Frank asked as Nancy turned around, trying to sound pleasant and interested._

"_Good," Nancy answered. "'Bout to call Callie?" _

"_Yep."_

"_Well, I warmed up the phone for you," Nancy said with a nervous laugh._

_Frank smiled. "Thanks." Nancy walked away, listening to Frank drop the coins into the slot and hoping that the machine would give them back._

3333

"How's it going there, Frank?" Joe asked from his computer. The CIA had given the brother's access to the CIA server from a conference room. The brother's had taken the last half-an-hour to do some of the research Nancy had given them. The brothers had decided to divvy up they work. Frank was researching Dr. Herman and Michelle while Joe looked into the Secretary and Rhonda Cunningham. Joe had found little information of interest.

Frank's lack of response caused Joe to stop what he was doing and look around the monitor to see what his brother was doing. "Frank?"

Frank was staring intensely at the screen and from the motion of his eyes; he seemed to be reading, furiously.

"What is it?" Joe asked, getting out of his chair and walking over to his brother. Joe looked at the wording and began reading randomly from somewhere in the middle. All he could understand was that it was an obituary.

Finally, Frank relaxed and pulled his eyes away from the screen. He reached for the mouse and used the rubber scroll button to push his way to the top. It was there, the name of the article: "Zimbanobhe's Attorney Dies from Food Poisoning: Defense Looks for New Representation." Joe read on, his eyes getting wider and wider.

"Oh my God," Joe said when he'd finished reading.

"We never knew," Frank said shaking his head.

"You think this is why—" Joe began.

Frank nodded, at a loss for words.


	5. Chinese Fortunes

A/N: I'm ecstatic about all the response! I'm glad you all are enjoying it and I hope you will continue to review.

One quick note to an anonymous reviewer as well as to anyone who may be thinking the same thing. My intent was not to make Nancy seem like a witch (though another word was used), but rather to get across her anger and frustration that currently exists in Nancy and Frank's relationship. I know at the moment Nancy's character may seem to be a little unreasonable, but I promise that Nancy and Frank's relationship will be explained, please be patient.

Also, in this chapter I did something similar to what Law and Order calls "ripped from the headlines." Some of you may be familiar with the Sniper case that hit many parts of Maryland and Virginia and the tragedies it left behind. I'm letting you know that I used that idea in my story, but none of the names, characters, or all the places listed are in anyway a factual representation of the Sniper incident.

On a personal note, I live in Virginia and was a Junior in High School when the events of the Sniper shooting was taking place and it was scary. Schools cancelled all outdoor activities, including delaying homecoming and playing football games in undisclosed locations. Once again, I in no way mean to belittle these events, and I hope in actuality, that people will remember those innocent victims who died as a result of those horrible events.

Chapter 4

Nancy grabbed the handle and walked into the server room she was told the Hardys were working in. She looked in surprise to find both brothers hovering at one computer. Frank was in the chair and Joe was looking over his shoulder. They didn't seem to notice her come in.

"Find something?" She asked. The brothers jumped and stared at her in surprise.

"No," Frank said at the same time Joe said, "Yes." Nancy raised an eyebrow.

"How'd things with Rhonda go?" Joe asked, hoping to divert Nancy's attention.

"She wasn't there. What's going on?" Nancy turned her gaze back and forth between the guilty looks of the brothers.

"We were doing some research," Joe explained. "And Frank found—" Joe stopped, not exactly sure how Frank had found that information, but having a feeling that Frank had been searching for it instead of searching for what he was supposed to be searching.

Nancy's expectant gaze however, was now focused on Frank. "What'd you find?"

Frank met her eyes and Nancy was surprised at the sorrow she saw in them. "Your dad, Nancy. We know about your dad."

Nancy was silent for a moment, her eyes stormy; her face, expressionless. "This is how you're helping me? Researching about me behind my back?"

"Well, you haven't exactly been volunteering it, now have you?" Frank shot back. Remembering what he'd read, Frank calmed down. "I was worried. You seemed so obsessed with this case. I wanted to know why."

"This goes much further than my dad," Nancy explained, staring Frank down. "If I'm right, this thing is huge and my father's death is just a small piece."

"Nan, please, tell us what happened," Joe spoke up.

Nancy's eyes never left Frank's. "It happened three months ago. We were having dinner at a restaurant back home. He ordered a steak and I had chicken. We split a bottle of Merlot between us. The next morning he couldn't get out of bed. Complained of terrible stomach cramps, even soiled himself. We took him to the hospital and found out that he had a severe case of _Salmonella_. He had an antibiotic resistant strain known as _S. typhi _that erupted into a case of typhoid fever. He died a week later." Nancy finished without emotion; stating the facts like any other observer.

"How does this connect with your case?" Frank asked timidly, slightly concerned about Nancy's lack of emotion.

"Everyone said it was bad meat, but the doctor's said it wasn't typical for _Salmonella_ to be as aggressive as this case was, even in spoiled meat. So, I investigated. All the beef in that restaurant tested negative for _Salmonella_ and no other reports from anyone else who had been at the restaurant for the same bacteria," Nancy stated.

"You think someone purposely poisoned your father?" Joe asked.

"Yes."

"But Nan, the list of potential suspects is endless. Anyone your father has ever put in jail has a reason to want to seek revenge on your father. I don't understand the connection between him and your case." Frank said.

"The Zimbanobhe Case is the connection," Nancy said crossing her arms.

"How?" Frank asked.

"Jeremiah Zimbanobhe is a twenty-seven year-old man. His family is from Afghanistan. He was born in Chicago and then moved to Virginia when he was seven. Grew up in Virginia, specifically Washington DC. Graduated high school without honors. His father had been dismissed from the FBI post 9/11 as a tactical agent and distinguished sniper. He taught his son everything he knows about guns and how to fire them. Jeremiah made friends with twenty-four year-old Mohammed Abhar, also from Afghanistan.

"The two of them stole cars and went on shooting sprees. It's believed that the two boys alternated in taking shots and shooting from the trunk of their stolen vehicle of choice. They killed three people in Fairfax County, five in Montgomery County, and two others in different cities within Virginia."

"Jesus," Joe whispered.

"From what I heard, Northern Virginia and Maryland were in an uproar. Numerous school events cancelled, people in a panic, everyone calling in their neighbors and anyone driving white vans, the supposed vehicle everyone assumed the shooters were driving." Nancy never once changed the emotion in her voice as she spoke.

"Since Zimbanobhe grew up in Chicago, he heard of the cases my father had taken and successfully won, and pulled him to be his lawyer. Of course my father had no desire to defend the man after all he'd done, but on a case like this, it comes down to the judge assigning a lawyer and since my father was available, he was forced to take the case. He had to take the case and play it just like Zimbanobhe was any other client."

"I'm so sorry, Nancy," Frank spoke, his face full of concern. Nancy didn't seem to have any reaction to any of this. It was as if she had pushed all reality of her father's death out of her mind to focus on this case; a case that she could have easily concocted as a way of avoiding acceptance.

"Thanks," she mumbled. An awkward silence fell, for Nancy was acutely aware of the questioning and pitying glances Frank seemed to be sending her way, and she didn't like it one bit.

"So, where do we go from here?" Joe asked noticing the looks Nancy was sending his brother.

Nancy seemed to think for a moment. "I'm going to find out where the Secretary's file is and see if I can get anyone at the White House to make a statement or talk to me. You guys continue your research. Let me know if you find anything. My office is down the hall." With that said and a last look at Frank, Nancy turned around and left the office, closing the door behind her.

Joe studied his brother, who seemed to be fascinated with the closed door. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking—I'm thinking that we may be wasting our time," Frank finally said, but hating himself for it. He didn't want to believe that Nancy could be making all this up. It was so unlike her and it would mean…well, that something bigger than he control was going on with her.

"What?" Joe asked in surprise.

"I don't think there's a case here."

"But Mr. Drew…"

"Unfortunate yes, but not uncommon. People do die of diseases, Joe," Frank stated. "I honestly think that Nancy is using this case as a way of being in control. She blames herself for her dad's death and she's making up this case so she could feel better."

"You think she's crazy?"

"No!"

"Yes, you do."

"I didn't say that."

"Not in so many words."

"Why are you fighting me on this?"

"Because you've got to admit that Nancy's brought up a lot of coincidences. A lot of people in high political places have died recently."

"You look at them separately and it doesn't mean anything. If you took a tally of how many politicians die each year you might not think my doubt is so unfounded."

"Coincidences are not about the pieces, Frank. It's about the whole," Joe argued. "I don't think that all these deaths are that normal. I mean two of them have come from the President's cabinet!"

"And both had medical problems that could have killed them at any time in their lives. Just because it was this month doesn't mean there's some sort of conspiracy going on." Joe looked at his brother and Frank sighed in resignation. "Look, a medical student studying for his exams will believe that he has _Ebola_ when it's actually the common cold. I believe that Nancy's emotions are being kept bottled up and that is what is causing her to put everything in this case. It's a determination to seek justice rather than acceptance."

"I don't believe it," Joe said shaking his head stubbornly.

Frank hung his head and glanced back at the computer screen. "I don't want to either, Joe, but at this point there is more evidence pointing towards that than evidence of this case actually existing."

4444

"I'm sorry, but we can't get the warrant for you till tomorrow." Nancy groaned in frustration.

"Thanks Cindy, I really appreciate this," Nancy responded, knowing that it wasn't Cindy's fault for the delay. "Good-bye." Nancy hung up her phone and stared at the computer in disappointment.

"Knock-Knock." Nancy looked up at her door in surprise as Frank came in, a paper bag in hand before turning her attention back to her lap-top.

"I'm busy," Nancy stated conclusively.

Frank gave her a reproachful look. "You need to eat."

"Not now. I have too much to do."

"It can wait," Frank said pulling out some red and white Chinese cartons. "Now I didn't know what you wanted, so I got a little bit of everything."

"Frank," Nancy asked. "What are you doing?"

"Having dinner," Frank said obviously.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"We need to talk," Frank finally admitted.

"We tried that last night," Nancy reminded. "If I remember correctly, you were right and I'm completely wrong."

"Nancy, don't be like that. That's not what I meant," Frank answered wearily.

"Then, by all means, please tell me what you meant," Nancy said leaning back in her chair.

"I want—Nancy—It's—" Frank attempted, trying desperately to find the words as Nancy waited, her eyebrows raised expectantly. "I want things to be back the way they were."

"Back when we were friends?" Nancy asked, but waiting, almost hoping he'd say no; hoping that he wanted to begin where they left off during training.

"Yeah," Frank answered almost with uncertainty and sadness.

"I see," Nancy answered quietly. She didn't know what reasoning backed his emotions at that moment, but figured if that was how he felt, than she had no choice but to go along with it. Frank silently grabbed one of the cartons out of the bag while Nancy stared into space.

4444

_Nancy_'_s arms shook as they supported her weight. Their commanding officer blew the metal whistle around his neck and it cut through the air with a shrill echo. Nancy bent her elbows and felt her stomach tighten as her push-up descended so that her chest touched the ground before she straightened her elbows once more, waiting for the next command._

"_Twenty!" They shouted as a group with the occasional person off count as their stomach touched the ground slightly out of sync. Their commanding officer gave two sharp blasts and Nancy groaned falling to her stomach and then rolling over and closing her eyes to let her aching muscles recover._

"_You okay, Drew?" Nancy could hear the grin in his question without opening her eyes._

"_Remind me again why I wanted to do this?" Nancy asked weariness in her voice._

"_Because you figured that a government job with no pay, long hours, that puts you so close to the face of death you could spit in his eye would be the way you wanted to spend the rest of your life."_

_Nancy grimaced. "Jeez Hardy, you make it seem so enticing." Nancy stretched out an arm, and Frank grabbed her hand, using his freshly toned muscles to help pull her up. Nancy stumbled onto her feet._

"_I try," Frank answered once Nancy had regained her balance. "But seriously, there isn't a better way to help people, and you know it."_

"_Well, actually. All those people being candy strippers in hospitals and such, they get all the benefit without the risk," Nancy said grinning as they started walking towards the cafeteria._

"_Ah, but they don't get to go out and break up the field of international organized crime," Frank pointed out._

"_Ah, touché," Nancy laughed. A silence fell over the two for a moment._

"_So, uh, how's Ned?" Nancy swallowed. She didn't want to talk about Ned now. Was Frank trying to remind her that she was taken and so was he? "Um, good. He's dying to come out here, but with the rules…"_

"_Yeah, same with Callie," Frank said thoughtfully._

"_How'd she take the news when you told her what you were going to do?" Nancy asked, suddenly curious._

"_Oh, about as well as Ned," Frank said with a sigh. Nancy nodded in understanding. She watched Frank out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help but wish that Ned understood her detective life as well as Frank did. She and Frank had always had this general understanding, even similar views and thoughts when it came to investigating cases. It was like they had the same mind at times. It seemed lately, at least, that she was having less and less of that in common with Ned._

_Almost instantly after thinking that, she regretted it. Here Ned was forced to deal with a relationship by phone while worrying at the same time about her hanging out with Frank Hardy. She knew he wasn't comfortable with the idea of the two of them spending so much time together, and yet, he put so much faith in her. And it wasn't like Nancy didn't love Ned, because she did. Nancy gave Frank another passing glance and decided that any attraction she had to Frank Hardy was a result of her missing Ned so much. _

"_Yo, Nancy?" Nancy looked at Frank, startled. He was holding the door to the cafeteria open and she had stopped about ten feet from the door to stare at it. "Dinner?" Frank asked with a grin._

_Nancy felt a flutter in her chest at that smile. "Right, I'd love to," Nancy said finally walking through the door and having Frank follow. _As friends, _Nancy_ _reminded herself. _Only friends and nothing more.

4444

"Hey, Nan? Nancy?" Nancy looked up at Frank calling her name.

"What?" she demanded, the question coming out harsher than she intended.

"Dinner?" He asked, raising his open contained of Lo Mein for emphasis.

Nancy gave him a curious look.

"What?" He asked, looking slightly worried.

"Nothing," Nancy said while shaking her head to clear it.

"No, really, what?" Frank asked again.

"It's nothing," Nancy said, grabbing a carton, not caring what it's contents were and hoping that her movement to eat would stop him from asking questions.

"Come on, tell me, please," Frank begged.

"I just got déjà vu, that's all," Nancy said, digging into some General Tso's chicken with the pair of chop sticks they'd provided.

"What the conversation we had while back in training walking to dinner?" Frank asked.

Nancy's eyes widened. "How did you--?"

Frank smiled. "I remember everything from those days. Like, how I kicked your butt on that fifteen mile run."

"Hey, that doesn't count because you were the only one who knew where we were going. Since you were leading us, you would come in first," Nancy argued.

"Still beat you," Frank pointed out.

"Well, if I remember correctly, my shooting was much better than yours," Nancy shot back smugly.

"I blame that on the prank you pulled on Agent Franklin."

"Come on, that had nothing to do with that. I did it on pure talent."

"Right, and the fact that you had to disassemble and reassemble twenty different guns didn't help your shooting ability at all."

"Nope," Nancy said, shooting Frank her first real smile. "And for the record, it was Agent McLaughlin who threw the pie."

"Maybe so, but you're the one who got the picture of it and put it on the web page," Frank stated.

"Don't cut yourself out of it. After all, _you're _the one who actually put it on the web page."

Frank waved his hand in dismissal. "Details." Both of them laughed.

"I've missed this," Frank said once they calmed down. Nancy nodded while thinking, _It only ended when you left. _ "What do I need to do to keep things this way?"

_Tell me you still love me, _Nancy thought, _that_ _you made a mistake when you left. _"Frank—" Nancy started but was interrupted by her ringing phone. Frank watched her pick it up with a sinking feeling.

"Agent Drew," she answered, looking at Frank.

"Hey, Agent Drew." Nancy smiled instantly recognizing her partner's voice and turning away from Frank.

"Peter, what are you doing calling me?" She glanced at Frank, who seemed both uncomfortable and curious.

"I just made contact with Michelin and figured I'd give you a quick call while I'm at it," he said.

"Well, I appreciate it, but I don't want you to risk your life just to talk to me," Nancy argued.

Peter chuckled. "Believe me, I'm not in deep yet. If I was, I definitely wouldn't be making this call. So how's things back on the home front?"

"Shitty. I've got to have something to report in two days and I can't in touch with probably, my biggest witness in the Secretary's case," Nancy sighed.

"You can do it, Drew. You can do anything," Peter comforted.

"Not true, but thanks anyway," Nancy said, blushing slightly.

"I've got to get going, but stay safe. I want my partner in one piece when I get back," Peter only half-joked.

"Hey, that goes double for you," Nancy said seriously. "You're more at risk than I am."

"Still, trouble is attracted to you like…a drunk to beer."

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "A drunk to beer?"

"Shut up, it works," Peter defended.

"Whatever, stay safe and I'll talk to you later," Nancy said.

"Later, Drew." With that Peter hung up and Nancy followed suite. An awkward silence followed, mainly because Frank didn't know exactly what the conversations was about or who it was with and Nancy didn't seem so willing to provide details.

"Boyfriend?" Frank finally asked timidly.

Nancy looked at him startled while at the same time wondering what had provoked Frank to ask such a question. "No, my partner. He's on a deep cover mission in Rome," Nancy asked, recovering. "He was at my apartment last night. We were having dinner," Nancy finished obviously.

Frank nodded, not knowing whether or not to be relieved. Nancy said they were partners, but their friendly attitudes and informalities ensnared his doubts. He played with his Lo Mein for a few minutes, intertwining the slimy brown noodles around each other with his own chopsticks.

"You didn't answer my question," Frank said quietly, slowly looking up from his noodles and into her brilliant blue eyes.

Nancy tightened her grip around her own container, glad that she could give her hands something to do, she was nervous and angry at the same time, but somehow she kept her voice calm.

"Frank, the day you told me that we couldn't be together and then your reasons why, I felt my heart crumble into a million pieces," Nancy closed her eyes as she felt her heart tighten painfully as the memory passed. She opened her eyes slowly and continued. "There has always been something between you and me, Frank. We both know it. We danced around each other during training for awhile, but finally we admitted our feelings to each other. From there, at least for me, I knew there was no turning back, but you—" Nancy felt tears well up in her eyes and she struggled to hold them back, but couldn't. One solitary tear made it halfway down her cheek before she had a chance to wipe it away.

"Nancy—" Frank gasped, almost feeling her pain as he watched her cry. He'd never seen her cry and knowing that he was the cause made it even worse. He felt his heart pound uncontrollably and he had the urge to get up and take her in his arms to make the pain go away, but it didn't happen. He wouldn't let himself and the tone of Nancy's next words commanded everything but sympathy.

"You turned the corner alone," Nancy finished. "Never once looking back."

"That's not true! I didn't want to leave you!" Frank cried out without thinking.

Nancy gave him a hard look, all traces of tears gone. "Then why did you, Frank?"

Frank's thoughts caught up with his voice and he stood there, trying to think of a reason. Anything that would sound plausible, but he came up with nothing. He'd told himself since the moment he'd broken up with Nancy why he was doing it, why this option was his best and only option, but none of those reasons came to mind at that moment, when the woman who mattered most to him stood there waiting. He closed his mouth he didn't realize he'd open in preparation for speech as he looked helplessly at the stark white ceiling before turning his gaze once again to her.

"Nancy, just trust me. I wouldn't have left you if it wasn't for a good reason. Please, Nancy," Frank pleaded.

"The reason you gave me was hardly satisfying. Are you telling me there's a different reason?" Nancy demanded, giving him one last chance to change her mind about him.

"No," Frank answered, defeat in his voice. Nancy's eyes went blank. He'd done it. He'd finally ripped the last piece of faith she'd had in him. Nancy put the Chinese down on her desk and looked him square in the eye like she would if she was interrogating someone.

"I trusted you once, Frank Hardy," Nancy stated coldly, "with my life and with my heart. You shatter one and you leave faith begging for mercy. As for the case, the director insists on your presence so you'll stay, but I'm done with these games. I'm going to get to the bottom of these murders, despite the second guesses you have about there even being a case. If you don't want to help, go back to the Bureau so no one has their time wasted anymore than it already has."

Frank looked at her for a second, knowing full and well that she intended to hold her promises but at the same time not believing what she was saying. Finally, he nodded. "Alright, Nancy." With that, he picked up his container of Lo Mein as well as the other untouched cartoons and made his way towards the door.

Nancy waited for the door to close behind Frank before throwing her partially eaten chicken in the trash. She let her body fall with resignation into her chair as the drizzle down her cheeks erupted into a cascade of tears.

4444

"_Agent Drew and Agent Greene!"_ _Nancy gave Frank a nervous look as she fell out from the rest of the group to see Agent McGregor. _

"_Yes, Sir?" Both girls asked, falling into attention, their eyes focusing blankly on something behind his tall and muscled form._

_"This is your weapon." Nancy looked down at the semi-automatic weapon and instantly identified it as a 9mm Beretta 92 FS. "You have ten shots. Agent Greene will cover you. Shoot anything that moves. Any questions?"_

_"No, Sir," Nancy answered, as her face went blank and her hands fell to her side with her gun pointing towards the ground.   
_

_"Dismissed, Agents." Nancy relaxed her posture as she and Agent Greene walked in step towards the simulator. _

_"Nervous?" Agent Greene asked. Her naturally bleached blond hair shimmered under the florescent lighting. All light disappeared as soon as Nancy reached for the door labeled "Simulator." She had watched the little red light that said, "Simulator in Use Do Not Enter" turn on and off and knew as soon as she closed the door, it would light up. _

_ "A little," Nancy admitted. The two girls took positions on either side of the simulator behind two strategically placed trashcans. The simulator had been designed to look like a street at night. Street lights had been assembled, mock buildings to look like the ghettos with hidden alleys. Debris such as trashcans and boxes had been placed strategically to be as realistic as possible. A faint but potent smell of gun powder lingered everywhere from constant use. _

_ Her gaze switched to the bullet-proof one-way mirror that she knew the rest of the people in her unit were watching, including Frank, just as she'd watched her past fellow classmates so that Agent McGregor could point out their mistakes and their successes. Honestly, as her eyes gazed around the room again to become familiar, she realized that the room was a lot bigger than it had looked while observing the other agents. _

_ She looked over at Agent Greene and began the simulation. Nancy held up her pointer finger of her right hand and while leaving that finger up, kept her left had flat and moved it up and down beside her right hand to tell her partner to stay there. Then she alternated the position of her hands from top to bottom by keeping contact at the palms as a sign to symbolize, "Cover me." Agent Greene acknowledged her signs somewhat hesitantly as Nancy focused on the task at hand. _

_ She knew as soon as she started walking down the road, machines would emerge and shoot from their BB guns. If an agent got hit, they were dead and the simulation ended. If the agent managed to hit the machine, sensors around the machine would verify the hit and shut down to symbolize a kill. _

_ Nancy took a deep breath and took off from behind the trashcan, staying low, until she made cover behind a street light. She could see Agent Greene from the corner of her eye, peaking out from behind the trash can to verify Nancy's clear path. The streets were quiet. Keeping with her training to keep moving, Nancy stepped out from behind the pole and almost instantly felt a BB fly past her head. She turned her head in the direction of the shot as she simultaneously heard Agent Greene open fire. _

_ Agent Greene's shots were shaky and inconsistent, wasting three shots in one of the mock buildings. Nancy took her time and fired one shot accurately as she dove behind a piece of metal painted and shaped to look like a car. Shots seemed to be firing at the car all around her and Nancy struggled to place them all. Once she was sure that one seemed to be coming from a balcony down the street, another from the roof of a building directly across from her position and yet another from one of the dark alleys, Nancy opened fired. She nailed the one in the balcony in two shots, and the one on the roof, but not before the one on the roof had taken a shot at the street light above her head, causing the sensor to register it as a hit and turn off the power to that light. Nancy saw a flash of movement as Agent Greene ran from her trashcan to the light pole Nancy had previously occupied. Her shots were being fired wildly into the alley, intended for the hidden robot. _

_ Nancy watched the flashes of white light coming from the darkened corridor until she was positive of its location. Then she took off at a diagonal across the street intending to take cover behind a fire hydrant. She fired one shot off and saw the flashes cease only to simultaneously feel a burning pain in her side. She let out a gasp in surprise at being hit and at the pain she didn't think a BB could cause. She pulled her hand away from her side and found it to be sticky. _Oh no_, she thought. _

_ The simulator was quiet for a second. Nancy's stillness neglected to trigger any other of the simulator's gunmen as Agent Greene waited expectantly for something to happen. She could see nothing in the section that Nancy had just occupied due to the light that had been shot out. She waited for the firing to start up again and for Nancy's figure to appear in the light once more, but nothing changed. Finally she got up the courage to rustle up her shaky voice siince she figured Nancy may not be in sight for her to do hand signals. _

_ " Nancy? Where are you?" _

_ "Fran," Nancy said through gritted teeth, calling Agent Greene by her first name. "I've-I've been hit." The attendees behind the one-way mirror registered this with slight shock, for Agent Drew had been doing quite well. The overhead lights turned on and flooded the simulator with light. _

_ The light revealed Agent Greene stepping out timidly from behind the post with her gun dangling at her side. Everyone saw Nancy lying on her side, her gun about a foot out of reach and both hands on her left side, but it was Agent Greene who first noticed that something was wrong. _

_ "Oh my God, Nan, you're bleeding!" The command room erupted in cries of alarm. Frank felt his heart pound as he saw Nancy lift her hands away to reveal them completely red. Without any thought but to be at Nancy's side, Frank rushed away from the group and into the simulator to Nancy's side. _

_ " Nancy, speak to me!" Frank insisted. _

_ "Damn, BB's," Nancy hissed as she lifted her hands off the wound once more. Frank took their place and immediately applied pressure. He was tempted to laugh at her comment, but was too worried. He lifted his hands up briefly to look at the wound. _

_ "This wasn't made by any BB. This was made by a bullet," Frank cried out anxiously as Agent McGregor entered in time to hear this comment. _

_ "Oh no, oh no," Agent Greene whispered backing away from the group as people filled into the room. She was the only one besides Nancy with a loaded gun. It had to have been her. She'd shot another agent. "It was dark. I couldn't, I couldn't see," she stuttered, dropping her gun and throwing it away from her with sudden fright. _

_ "Agent Greene, I need you to calm down. We all know it was an accident," he turned away from her and shouted towards the group of agents that stood around Nancy. "I need all of you to step back and give her room. I also need one of you to run to the infirmary." Agent Davis volunteered and took off down the hall as everyone but Frank did as Agent McGregor asked. _

_ Frank meanwhile felt his heart constrict as he looked at the increasing paleness of Nancy's face. "Hang in there, Nan." _

_ "It's a shallow wound, I'm fine," Nancy murmured, slurring slightly as she spoke. Frank felt his anxiety increase as he realized that Nancy was becoming more and more drowsy. He leaned across her body so he could get his face close to hers, not caring what people might be thinking or saying or even that other people were in the room. He needed to make sure that she could hear him, that she'd pay attention to him. _

_ " Nancy, stay awake, please. You need to stay awake, you've been shot," Frank insisted. _

_ "In the morning, Frank," Nancy insisted, her voice fading and her eyes fluttering. Frank thought desperately for something to do to keep her conscious before doing the only thing he could think of. He stretched over her body, his hands still firmly on his wounds and placed his lips deliberately and coaxingly on hers. He kissed her gently but urgently, trying to get her to respond. For a moment, he thought that it was too late and that he would now have to worry about starting her on compressions, but then he felt her lips kiss back, just as gently but urgently as his had been. He pulled away slightly and saw her eyes slowly open. _

_ "'Bout time, Frank," she said with a slight smile. Frank wasn't sure exactly what she meant, but he was so relieved to see her awake that he didn't care at the moment. _

_ " Nan—" Frank started. _

_ "We've got it from here, Son," a paramedic said carefully pulling Frank away. He stood up and watched them exam the wound and prepare to transport her on a stretcher. The whole time Frank's eyes never left hers, and though he knew she seemed to struggle with it, hers never left his. _

_  
_


	6. Reread

A/N: Alright everyone, here's the next installment. I appreciate once again all of those people who have reviewed and waited patiently or impatiently for me to post. Thanks, again and I apologize for the delay.

Chapter 5

Frank and Joe arrived the next morning, early, to get a jump start on research. Actually, both brothers had decided it would be best in case Nancy decided to close them out of the investigation like she did when she went to the hospital the previous morning, especially after Nancy's conversation with Frank.

After Frank had relayed the whole story to his brother, Joe felt it was best not to say anything. Frank already felt horrible and it didn't seem right for Joe to point out what he believed to be the most obvious reason in the world for Frank to break up with Nancy. Frank needed to realize it on his own.

Joe watched as they went past the increasingly familiar Shell station and Subway combination, the 7-Eleven, and finally, the Suntrust bank on the corner before Frank took the left hand turn to head towards the CIA building. Frank slowed down and finally came to a stop in front of the entrance to the underground parking garage. A tall rectangular building with windows on all sides and a cement base created a median for traffic entering and exiting the garage while fluorescent yellow and white automated bars discourage it.

"Good morning, Sir. Could I see some identification?" Frank passed the man his badge and Joe did the same. "How many people in the vehicle with you today?" the officer asked as he gazed into the back seat.

"Just us two," Frank replied. The officer nodded thoughtfully and headed over to the station with their badges. Joe could tell from where he was seated that the man was going through the CIA computers to verify their identities. He came back a few minutes later and returned the badges to the brothers.

"Alright, if you could please step out of the car and pop your trunk." Frank threw a questioning glance at his brother before looking back at the officer.

"Is there a problem?" Frank asked as he unbuckled his seat belt and turned off the engine.

"No problem," the officer reassured. "I know you are who you say you are. New Rules for the last few years has been to search every vehicle entering the facility. Doesn't even matter if you have a parking permit anymore."

"Jeez, "Joe breathed as he stepped out the car. His step reverberated causing Joe to look down. A long metal compartment about two-feet wide and twenty-feet long covered the road. Joe had a feeling that they were spike traps if anyone tried to rush in. Joe let his eyes wander the road and found another identical structure located just after the fluorescent bar.

The officer looked up after patting down the inside of the trunk. "You think that's bad?" the officer scoffed. "I take it you haven't been into DC lately?"

Joe shrugged. "Just the airport."

The officer nodded. "Well, that's pretty much what it's like everywhere in the District now. The closer you get to the White House the worse it is. Hell, you're lucky if you can see Pennsylvania Avenue from the streets, let alone drive on it." The office closed the trunk and opened one of the back doors and did a quick search with his eyes while running his hands all along the upholstery. He slammed the door and looked up at them

"You mean nothing changed with the Feds?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"Oh sure," Joe said. "Every time the threat level changes from yellow to orange we put a few more people on the night shift."

The officer laughed. "Don't even get me started on the threat levels. I mean at first things were in a panic. Everyone thought that orange meant terrorists were going to come knocking at their door and then when nothing happened and we went back and forth from yellow to orange people sort of forgot about it. It was like looking in the paper and saying, 'Oh yeah, thirty-percent chance of rain today; oh yeah, we're at orange today.'" The officer chuckled and shrugged slightly. "But if you ask me, I'm glad security is being beefed up. We shouldn't need colors to do that."

"No kidding," Joe agreed.

"Well, boys, you're free to go in. Have a good day," the officer said, heading back into the booth. Frank and Joe waved good-bye and got back into their rental car, neither of them bothering to put their seatbelts back on. They sat in silence as Frank pulled into a parking spot in the beige tinted garage illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Both of them stepped out as Frank hit the remote control to lock the doors. Joe made his way over to elevator and they waited until the green light illuminated G1 before the doors opened and they stepped into the stainless steel elevator.

The brothers made their way up to the fifth floor before stepping out. They headed down the crowded corridor, both of them at some point being forced up against the wall to let some other person pass. Finally, they came to a stop in front of Nancy's office. Joe glanced at his brother before raising his hand up to knock. There, however, was no response.

"You looking for Agent Drew?" The brother's turned to find themselves looking into the brown eyes of a short woman dressed in an almost denim shaded vest with harsh shiny black buttons down the front. The vest rested on top of a white blouse that was tucked into a long navy skirt that almost touched her ankles. Her hair was a straight shiny black and her face resembled that of someone sweet but with the ability to become fierce anytime she wanted.

"Yes," Frank answered.

"Conference room, down the hall," the woman volunteered.

"Is she in a meeting?" Joe asked.

"Nope," the woman said grinning. "She's always liked the space of the conference room so that she can see all her files at once."

"Thanks," Joe said, his smile deepening.

"Jackie, Jackie Perdue," she said smiling back.

"Nice to meet you, I'm—"

"Meeting up with Nancy," Frank interrupted. Joe shot his brother a look and Jackie smiled with understanding.

"Glad I could help." Jackie flashed them another smile and continued down the hall. Frank pushed his brother towards the conference room.

"Hey," Joe said with annoyance. "Just because you're love life isn't going anywhere doesn't mean you have to ruin it for me."

Frank ignored the jab. "We have a job to do, Joe. You can flirt later."

"Spoil sport," Joe muttered as Frank opened the door. Frank was prepared to glare at his brother, but the expression never reached his face. Instead it softened as he took in the sight before him.

Nancy was sitting on the long side of the conference table. Her head lay on top of an open manila folder and from there; the contents of at least ten folders formed an almost perfect circle originating from her resting head. It reminded Frank of a body of water decorated with constantly expanding ripples.

She was wearing the same clothes from yesterday except the blouse was slightly wrinkled. Her eyes strangely looked a little a little darker than yesterday, as if mascara had run down her face, but the color change was so subtle, Frank couldn't be sure there was one. Her hair, however, that had been in an elegant French Braid, now lay around her face slightly curled. Frank didn't have the heart to wake her up. Apparently she'd been here all night, working. He furrowed his brow in concern at how much she wasn't putting into her work. He hoped his previous assessment was wrong and that there was something here for her to be investigating.

Frank watched as Joe tip-toed over to her side, almost wanting to call out to him and tell him to let her sleep, but he had a feeling that it wasn't a restful sleep. He hoped if he woke her up, that they'd have a chance to coax her to go home. It was a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.

"Nancy," Joe whispered, shaking her shoulder gently. Nancy shot up almost immediately and grabbed Joe's wrist. Frank could tell that she was scanning the room without recognition until her eyes fell on Joe.

"Joe, I'm sorry," she said immediately letting go.

"It's all right, Nan," Joe reassured. He'd been startled by her reaction, but knew it was probably a result of her training. Personally, Joe had always been capable of falling asleep anywhere; a deep sleep at that, but he knew Frank slept a little more lightly than he used to.

Nancy gently ran applied pressure with her fingertips to her eye lids in a gentle massage before taking a hand and running it through her hair to push it out of her face.

Frank felt himself smile as he looked at it. How shiny it was.

5555

"_Hey, stranger."_ _Frank knew her voice before he ever turned around. It always had the same affect on him. His heart quickened, he felt self-conscious about whatever he was saying, and he knew that when he turned around he would take the time to memorize everything about her. They way she looked at him, her stance, her face; she didn't even have to be smiling and she would still look beautiful._

_His gaze had been fastened to the track where other agents had sought the coolness of the morning to enjoy a run. He turned after a second's pause and found Nancy standing there, in her typical uniform. Her hair was fastened back, but it looked freshly washed because of the way it shined. It reminded him of a rose petal graced with dew and just catching the eye of the sun._

"_Hey, Nancy," Frank replied, his voice hesitant and unsure. "How are you doing?"_

"_I'm fine, Frank," Nancy answered in order to erase all doubt. "Cleared all organs. I should be back in the game in no time."_

_Frank just nodded distantly but in agreement, his eyes not meeting hers. He knew what she was wondering and he knew he had to say something to explain himself. He opened his mouth to start to explain, but found his words coming out differently than planned. "I'm sorry for not visiting you."_

_Nancy shrugged. "Hey, it's okay. I wouldn't want you skipping training or anything to come visit me. I was fine." Frank again nodded, but knew that she wasn't as okay with it as her words expressed. Her voice gave away a sense of hurt that Frank instantly felt guilt for. They weren't going out or anything, but they were still friends. He still should have gone to see her._

_Again, the two fell silent. It seemed like the silence happened too often between the two of them sometimes. The awkwardness that would come due to unspoken emotions they were forbidden to speak. _

"_Nan, about the kiss," Frank finally rushed out. "It didn't mean anything. I was just trying to get your attention, you know? Make sure that you didn't lose consciousness." _Liar _was all that he could think to himself._

_Nancy didn't say a word. In fact, she was so quiet Frank finally brought his eyes up to hers to make sure that she was still paying attention to him. He wanted to make sure she had heard what he'd said. Her eyes showed hurt, confusion, but also determination._

"_Of course, Frank," Nancy said, meeting his gaze._

_Frank looked at her, bewildered. An edge of sarcasm in her voice caught him off guard. "What?"_

"_You're right, it meant nothing," Nancy agreed, this time a little more whole-heartedly. "I didn't feel anything at all when you kissed me. My heart didn't quicken, I didn't completely forget about everything but your lips against mine, I didn't return the kiss just in case it was the last time I might ever get to see you, and I've never thought of it since." Nancy stepped closed to him and lowered her voice. "And I've never thought about doing it again since then." Before Frank could even think Nancy brought her lips closer to his in a question. She was so close he could feel the warmth of her body, smell the roses in her hair, and almost taste her kiss. His lips tingled at the thought and without any further hesitation he closed the distance. _

_They kissed gently, not caring who could see them, where they were, or even who they were. They had no past or no future. It was just them, right now, in this moment and Frank Hardy didn't want it to end. He never felt a kiss more perfect, more right, even destined if there was such a thing, but almost simultaneously, alarm bells seemed to be going off. Something was telling him somewhere that this was wrong. _

_He broke the kiss with longing and regret. Nancy pulled away, not evening opening her eyes while turning her head as if to look at something to her left. Frank stood there a moment as he tried to think of what to say. He wanted to take it back and pretend the kiss never happened, but at the same time, all he wanted to do was lean in once more and feel her soft lips against his own. Finally coming to the conclusion that Frank wasn't going to say anything, Nancy spoke up._

"_Frank, we've been dancing around each other for a while and maybe it took the thought of me never seeing you again to make me realize that I can't keep pretending or maybe I've just become fed up with these games but I've just told you how I feel about you," Nancy turned her gaze back to his eyes knowing exactly what her next question was going to be. "How do you feel about me?"_

_Frank made a half-hearted attempt to avoid her gaze, but found it difficult knowing how difficult it was for her to be so open about her emotions with him, especially when she was currently seeing someone else. As soon as his eyes connected with hers, his heart nearly stopped. Her simple words didn't do anything to describe that look. She loved him, of that much he was sure and he knew that he loved her as well._

"_Nan—" Frank started wanting so much to tell her how he felt and show her how much she meant to him. "Callie—" He finally finished lamely._

_Nancy's head fell. "I understand," she said quietly. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything you don't want to."_

_Frank felt his heart breaking. He hated seeing her upset, and it was even worse since he knew that he was the cause of it. Before he could even second guess himself he stepped towards Nancy and wrapped his arms just below her shoulders and held her there. "I'm sorry, Nancy. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I really do care about you, a lot."_

"_Is it enough?" Nancy asked not allowing herself to wrap her arms around him. Frank pushed back from Nancy gently and looked into her questioning eyes. She wasn't pressuring him, and for that he was grateful, but he still felt a large amount of stress as he pondered over the answer to her question. There was no doubt that what he felt for Nancy was genuine. Her smile, her ambition, their common interests, it was the highlights of a very long list. His reluctance in pursuing their relationship puzzled even him. He kept telling himself it was Callie, but he knew deep down it really wasn't._

_Callie Shaw, however, was a significant part of his life. They'd been together for multiple years now. Part of being a couple was like dating a best friend, and that's what it had always been like. They saw eye-to-eye on most things and when they didn't they respected each other's reasoning. The one thing Callie had never really liked was his interest as a detective, and honestly, he couldn't blame her. He was away from all the time, canceling dates, coming home at all hours of the night. It would be hard for anyone to keep putting on fake smiles and nodding with accepted apologies. Frank had watched Callie's polite smile disappear long ago._

_Despite that, Frank could never think of a reason to not be with Callie, at least till Nancy Drew came along. He and Callie had even talked about marriage. As soon as Frank finished his training and settled into his new job at the Bureau they were going to get married. Unfortunately, that dream seemed a lot more realistic before he'd spent all this time with Nancy and realized that the little crush he'd always had for her was a little more than a crush. The question remained, however, why in the world he wouldn't let himself be with Nancy Drew. _

_Before Frank could bring himself to answer her question he had to ask his own. "What would you do about Ned?"_

_Nancy pulled away and looked at him. "Ned is a wonderful guy, but we've been heading in different directions for a while now. When I got here and started spending all this time with you and feeling things I knew I shouldn't be feeling, I told myself that it was just because I was missing him, but I can't pretend anymore. Even if you told me no, I would end things with Ned, because maybe at one point I could say my feelings towards you were just crush and nothing more, I know for sure now that it isn't and wouldn't be fair to pretend the feelings I have for you are for him. He deserves better and so does Callie._

"_Frank you just told me you like me a lot. I can't make any decisions for you and I'm not going to, but you need to really decide whether or not your feelings will keep you in an honest relationship with her." Nancy put her hands on top of the ends of her short-sleeve t-shirt and gave him one last look before she walked away._

5555

"Frank!" Frank blinked in surprise to see a hand being waved in front of his face and Joe's voice calling his name.

"Sorry, what?" Frank asked shaking his head to try and clear the old memory from his mind. He paused and allowed his gaze to pass over Nancy. A questioning look was on her face, but she replaced it with a blank stare as soon as her eyes met his.

"We were talking about the Secretary's file," Joe explained, still watching Frank as if he expected him to zone out again.

"Right, what do we have?" Frank took a seat across from Nancy and Joe followed suite, occupying the seat to the right of Frank.

"From what I've been able to tell, they did normal preliminary tests. Nothing really sticks out except for his high blood pressure, which I already found out by talking to Michelle Banks." Nancy looked up from the file to realize the brothers were staring at her blankly.

"Michelle Banks?" Joe repeated, waiting for her to continue. Realization set in when Nancy remembered she had yet to tell the Hardys' about her meeting with the nurse.

"Something tells me that Rhonda Cunningham is the key to all this," Nancy said with a furrowed brow.

"Why do you say that?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, call it an instinct," Nancy said with a shrug.

"So, where do we go from here?" Frank asked.

Nancy glanced at him and then turned to Joe, addressing him as if he'd been the one to pose the question. "We need to narrow down suspects and motives."

"Well, there's Michelle Banks and Rhonda Cunningham," Frank suggested, watching Nancy intently.

Nancy looked up at him sharply. "We're not looking for a single person. I'm talking about a group of people." Frank glared at her silently but didn't continue the dispute. "Now there are three organizations whose profiles I think might fit," Nancy said focusing on the papers in front of her.

"First is the Allegiance. The Allegiance came into existence during the second Red Scare. While McCarthy was attacking anyone he disliked, the Allegiance was taking advantage of permanently removing those government officials fired from office. Its members mostly consisted of legal Soviet immigrants who'd Americanized their name and publicly announced their loyalty to the United States by proclaiming their hatred for Communism, meanwhile they were seeking revenge for the US's involvement in the Korean War," Nancy explained. "The Allegiance went under ground in 1957 with the decline of McCarthyism. They were rumored here and there to be responsible for a few isolated incidents, but nothing that was ever proven."

"They don't really sound like what we're looking for," Joe stated as he thought over Nancy's summary. "Communism has been controversial, but not potent enough for this group to be secure in rising up again."

Nancy nodded. "I agree. In fact, I have little faith in the three groups I have selected. All of their messages were too specific to the time period. The chances of them rising up at this point after being inactive for so long don't seem too likely."

"Then why bring them up?" Frank asked.

Nancy looked at Frank in incredulity. "Because all three groups have been know to specifically target government officials. They fit the profile, which means they can't be completely eliminated. Frank felt his eyes narrow slightly at her slightly condescending tone.

"So, what are you thinking?" Joe asked breaking and trying to stop the spark from igniting.

Nancy leaned back into her chair, again calming herself and keeping her focus on Joe, as if he was the only person in the room. "I'm thinking that it's a new group, and when I say new, I'm talking about within the last year or two. The earliest date I could find was March 20, 2005. Maria Slovaski, entered the hospital for knee surgery of all things. She had an aneurism when they inserted her IV in with an air bubble and died." Nancy leaned forward, her hands clasped in front of her. "I've been trying desperately to see the significances of the cause of deaths, the illnesses, anything that could be of help and they only date that sticks out is the first one."

"How?" Joe asked, repeating the number over in his head, trying to recall some important event or holiday that took place on that date, but he came up with none. See as how he couldn't exactly recall what he had for breakfast, it wasn't a big surprise.

"It's exactly two months after President Bush's second inauguration," Nancy stated firmly.

Frank stared at Nancy like she'd lost her mind. "What?" Frank asked in utter disbelief. "Are you honestly trying to tell me that some organization that you have no evidence exists has decided to go around killing government officials because "I have a plan" John Kerry isn't our president? Nancy, listen to yourself! Listen to how crazy this sounds!"

"Frank!" Joe said standing up.

"No, Joe, she needs to hear this," Frank insisted looking into Nancy's blank eyes. "Nancy, look at the evidence you don't have. You can't even conclude that Slovaski _was_ the first murder. You are making up one coincidence after another and you're still grabbing at straws!" Frank calmed his tone and looked at her almost pleadingly. "I'm sorry you're dad died, but this quest you're on to try and find his so-called murderer is getting out of control. You need to accept what happened and move on, Nan. Please."

Nancy felt broken, as broken as the day she'd found out the truth about Frank Hardy. She wanted to stand up, yell right back into his face, and tell him he was the crazy one, but she didn't have the energy for that. So, with all the calmness she could muster she let her mouth form the words, no longer caring who she pleased. Neither of them believed in her anymore.

"I don't pretend to be over what happened to my dad, and though I'm searching for answers I'm not desperately clinging to anything I truly don't believe is there," Nancy left her files on the table and walked towards the door. She stopped before opening it and spoke softly into the door, remembering. "I believe in my heart, Frank Hardy, and at one time it believed in you. It made a mistake, it makes mistakes. You and I make mistakes. We find out we're wrong and we move on and make new mistakes all over again. If this is a mistake, I'm following it until I know for sure it is one, otherwise, I'll never know." The door shut gently in a whisper almost as quiet as her voice. Frank felt a tug at his heart. Nancy never turned around so Joe knew she never saw him, but he did. He saw the glazed look in Frank's eyes, a closed window to another time all together. Joe watched with grim finality as the two worlds collided. Frank's lips met Nancy's words in perfect sync as Joe witnessed an end to a story he hoped he'd never reread.

5555

_Frank felt his heart pound with every measured breath. He breathed like a machine, taking in just enough to keep him going and letting out just as much as he took in. His lungs had a slightly warm sensation, which could only be described as a warning to the inadequate breaths he was taking. Meanwhile, the effort began to show on the outside of his standard gray shirt as glistening sweat caused a dark gray to appear wherever his chest made contact with the cotton material. Frank had decided an hour ago that he needed to get out and clear his head. It's one of the things he loved most about running. Once he started he only focused on his breathing because machines, after all never thought. _

_He'd followed his feet the entire time, never once paying attention to where he was going. He'd already looped around the training facility twice, without realizing that he'd done so. It wasn't till he came towards the woman's barracks that his pattern changed. He'd slowed down to a jog causing his breathing to be too fast for his new pace, but he was no longer paying attention to maintaining his breathing. He'd just caught a shimmer red amongst more blonde strands and everything else was forgotten. She was walking in step with another agent, looking intent as she listened to what the other agent was saying until her eyes relaxed and checks melded her lips into a stunning smile. He couldn't hear her laughter from where he was, but it filled his ears none the less._

_Frank was sure she hadn't seen him and he debated whether he wanted to be seen. They hadn't said much but a few passing words to each other since the morning at the track. He could tell she was waiting for a sign from him. A confirmation of one way or the other, which is why, he believed, that so few words had been spoken between them. She didn't want to rush him, and he appreciated that, but at the same time, it almost made it that much harder. _

_He looked up as he heard her laugh again, this time for real. His distracted thought process had caused his path to wander across hers. He cursed himself for losing focus but at the same time almost wished she'd look up. His path was almost perpendicular to hers, he still had a chance to turn around and backtrack and she'd never know, but he didn't. He continued on his path and the next moment when he looked up, Nancy and her friend had stopped walking. The agent with Nancy had stopped in confusion as she tried to figure out why they were no longer moving._

_Frank at this time had stopped as well and he was staring at Nancy with longing. Looking at her now, all he wanted to do was run to her and hold her in his arms. She whispered something to the agent next to her, but since they were still about fifteen feet apart, Frank couldn't hear what she said, but as soon as she pulled away, the other agent nodded, gave Frank one last look, and then walked away. Frank closed the gap to about ten feet and stopped._

"_Hey," Frank said quietly._

"_Hey," Nancy repeated._

"_How've you been?" Frank asked searching her eyes._

'_Fine, keeping busy, training and all," Nancy answered distantly._

_Frank licked his lips trying to formulate the right words, but he couldn't take even this small distance. The walked forward and placed his hands on either side of her shoulders. "I don't want you out of my life."_

_Nancy_ _felt her eyes start to water but she held them back with a sniffle. "I don't want to be out of it either, Frank, but do you know how hard it is to tell you exactly how I feel and I get a maybe? I didn't—I don't know what to do." _

"_Hey," Frank said, wrapping her fully in a hug. "It's okay." Her heard her sniffle and felt her hands wrap tightly around the middle of his back. Frank found himself smelling the sweet lilies in her hair. He rubbed gentle small circles on her back with the palms of his hands and realized how right this felt. He wanted more than friends, he'd known that for a long time, but he didn't realize how strongly until he'd gone for days without seeing or speaking to her. He also realized that the only thought he'd really given Callie was in considering whether or not he wanted to leave her. He missed her, but it'd been over two months since he'd seen her and he didn't feel the longing to see her as much as he'd felt for Nancy after only being apart for a week._

"_I want to be with you," he whispered into her ear. "You're right. I can't just pass up this opportunity. We've been stupid for too long. I want you to be my girl." Nancy pulled away from him. She hadn't let herself break into tears, but now they fell freely as she saw that he really meant it. She did the first thing that came to her. She pulled him closer so their lips met. At first Frank was surprise but before he knew it, he responded back. The intensity between their kiss was greater but less urgent than their previous one, but Frank knew it wouldn't be their last._

_5555_

_Frank approached the phone tentatively. He wanted more than anything to go to Callie's side, tell her in person, after all, as long as they'd been together, that's the least she deserved, but he couldn't keep pretending everything between the two of them was okay and he wasn't able to leave the training facility without getting into trouble, so here he was. _

_He took a deep breath and inserted two quarters and dialed the number he'd known for almost six years. He waited as the familiar ring filled the earpiece. He almost hoped she wasn't home and he was tempted to hang-up and maybe try again later, but he knew the more he tried to put it off, the harder it would be. If anything, he'd leave a message telling her to call him. Just when he was starting to go over the message he'd leave in his head, he heard her voice._

"_Hello?" Her answer was monotone and unlike her normal teary self. An irrational fear ran through him making him wonder if she already knew what he was going to say. "Hello?" she asked again._

"_Hey, Callie, it's me," Frank answered somewhat nervously._

"_Oh, Frank," she seemed to sob with relief. "I'm so glad to hear from you! How are you doing?" Frank frowned, it seemed as if she was trying hard to sound normal, but he didn't believe it for a second._

"_Fine, Callie, are you alright?" He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice._

"_Yeah, just fine," she answered without a smidge of reassurance in her tear-stained voice._

"_I don't believe it. Really, what's wrong?" Frank asked, thoroughly worried now._

_There was a short pause. "It's my mother, she's in the hospital. She—she had a stroke." _

_Frank's eyes went wide. "Callie, why didn't you tell me? Is she going to be alright? Are you alright?"_

"_You've been busy training! And what could you honestly do? She-she just had a stroke and now she's in a c-coma, Frank. They don't even know if she's going to—" _

"_Hey, hey, shhh," Frank soothed. "Your mother is going to be fine." _

"_You don't know that, Frank! What makes you think everything's going to be okay?" Callie demanded. _

_Frank sighed. "Your right, I don't know for sure, but what I do know is how strong your mother is. Remember when she had to fight off pneumonia? Doctor's didn't think she'd make it through the night, but despite their medical opinions, she pulled through. You need to be strong for her, Callie."_

_Callie sniffled and there was some fumbling of the phone as if she might have put it down, but then she came back on. Her voice however, was still filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't mean to snap, and I thank you for saying that. I guess the idea of losing her just overwhelmed me; more so after hearing your voice. I miss you so much! I wish you were here with me." _

_Frank felt his chest tighten with guilt. He knew why he'd called but he couldn't do it. He couldn't break up with his girlfriend while her mother could be dying. It was cruel and unethical. _And how fair is it to Nancy? _His thoughts reminded him. Nancy would understand, he convinced himself. She wouldn't be able to do it either. She'd just have to wait._

"_I wish I was there with you too," Frank answered. He looked up and caught sight of Nancy entering the administration building. "Look, honey, I got to go, but I'll call you tomorrow. Let me know if anything changes before then."_

"_I will. I love you," Callie added, her voice becoming lower._

"_I-I love you too," Frank hesitated before turning the phone around and hanging it up in the receiver. He left his head tucked, looking down at his shoes as he took in the phone conversation. _

"_Were you talking to Callie?" Frank looked up abruptly and saw Nancy standing before him. She looked sympathetic. _

"_Yeah," he reached around with his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. _

"_How'd she take it?" Nancy asked as she gently rubbed his left arm soothingly._

"_I didn't—" Frank started, but looking at Nancy's face, he couldn't tell her that he didn't tell Callie. She had poured her heart out to him, and if anything, he couldn't bear telling her the truth. At the same time, he hated lying to her, but he knew he'd break up with Callie eventually, it just was undecided when._

"_About as well as can be expected," Frank finished._ _She took him into a sympathetic hug and Frank felt his chest tighten again. Technically he hadn't lied to Nancy, but he knew what she actually meant, and he knew how he'd answered and what she thought because of it. _It'll work out_, he told himself. _Everything will be okay.


	7. Timetable

A/N: Check this out! A new chapter in less than a week after my previous one! Yay! I couldn't help it though. I was excited about this chapter. It's a very emotional chapter. If any of you are waiting for major action, just wait till the next chapter. It's gonna be good.

Anyway, thanks again for all your reviews. You all are my inspiration, I swear! Enjoy the next well-earned chapter!

Chapter 6

_Three Weeks Later…_

"_Ten bucks says I can beat you to the administration building," Nancy yelled. Her voice was slightly winded, but in no way out of breath. _

"_Deal," Frank yelled back grinning. The next thing he knew Nancy gave him a wicked grin and took off at sprint. Frank smiled at her back before doubling his own speed. He quickly closed the distance Nancy had used to separate them and they ran with synonymous rhythm, both within thirty feet of the building. _

_Frank watched as Nancy made a move to stick her hand out. She was within ten feet of the building and was preparing for impact. Frank smiled and with the devil's aura surrounding him, he extended his leg out towards his right; directly in Nancy's path. Nancy gave a surprised gasp as her legs got caught up in his, and both of them went tumbling. She fell to the ground with a heavy breath while Frank's laughter filled her ears._

"_You dirty, rotten, no-good, scheming, rat—cheater!" Nancy shouted, glaring at Frank. This just caused Frank to laugh harder._

"_Rat cheater?" Frank asked, finally rolling over to face her. "What's a rat cheater?" _

"_You are," Nancy shot back with failing irritation. She hated how his smile could always bring down her defenses and make her forget any reasons why she might be angry with. _

"_Ohhhh, okay," Frank said grinning and rolling back onto his back silently laughing at her childish behavior._

_Nancy flipped over and stood up just enough so that she could straddle him. She plopped down on his chest almost as if she thought she weighed nothing, even though she knew she didn't. Her movement had her desired affect as he curled up slightly, tucking his knees and clutching his chest as the air rushed out of his lungs. He coughed slightly. _

_Nancy leaned forward bringing his face close to his. "See, I know the only reason you cheated was because you were insecure about winning. So you had to make it a tie so that everyone wins."_

"_You've got me all figured out, Drew," Frank said smiling. Nancy leaned forward even closer. _

"_There's only one problem, Hardy," she breathed. She was so close that Frank felt his eyelids instinctively close. Her words were warm against his lips. "Someone's still got to touch the building." The next thing Frank knew, the weight off his stomach was lifted. His eyes shot open as the realization set in that she'd tricked him and was now closing in on the remaining distance. Frank got up and was half way through the remaining distance when Nancy touched the wall. She turned around and faced him, her hands on her hips in satisfaction._

"_You're in for it now, Drew." Frank caught up with her and let his hands run across her stomach, up her sides and to her underarms where she was forced to double over in laughter._

"_No-no fair!" She yelled through the laughter._

"_Call it a tie and I'll stop," Frank coaxed, enjoying every minute of being the torturer._

"_Okay, okay, it's a tie, it's a tie," she relented. She took in deep breaths as Frank moved his hands away from her ticklish spot and wrapped them around her waist. _

"_You are a mean mean man, Frank Hardy," Nancy gently scolded as she wrapped her arms around his neck. _

"_Mean?" Frank said faking hurt. "I'd like to think I'm a hard bargainer." Nancy shook her head and grinned as she leaned forward as before, her lips searching his and her eyes closing. But Frank pulled back._

"_No tricks?" Frank asked._

"_Truths," Nancy conceded with a laugh her eyes opening again and sparkling with happiness. _

"_Truths," Frank agreed, as he closed the remaining distance and met Nancy's lips with his own. _

_Their next moment of awareness came when the sound of someone clearing their throat repetitively, almost purposefully, disturbed the moment. Frank pulled away and looked over, shock spreading all over his face. He broke away from Nancy so fast he threw her off balance and almost into the wall. _

"_Joe!" Frank said happiness and nervousness suddenly overtaking him. He'd neglected to tell Joe that he and Nancy were seeing each other. "What are you doing here?" He asked as he took Joe in a hug. The two brothers pulled away and Joe gave Frank a confused glance as if to say, _What's going on here?

_Before Joe could answer however, Nancy stepped forward and took Joe into a hug as well. "It's great to see you, Joe! How've you been?"_

"_Good," Joe responded, still thoroughly confused. "Callie wanted to see you," Joe finally answered, turning his attention back to his brother and letting his tone become slightly cold._

_Frank swallowed. He'd been keeping in touch with Callie almost every other day during the week. From what it sounded like, her mother wasn't showing any improvement, and his girlfriend was sounding increasingly depressed. He'd thought of telling her almost every time he'd picked up the phone and heard her voice on the other side, but what kind of man would do that to someone who was already dealing with so much? _

_The thought had also come up several times of just stopping things with Nancy. He knew it was unfair to be hanging out with Nancy, leading her to believe that they were going out and the things they were doing didn't have consequences. His feelings cut so deep that he couldn't bare the idea of telling her that they couldn't be together. Meanwhile, the guilt of hiding things from his girlfriend and pretending with Nancy were starting to get to him, and now they'd come together. He didn't see how he'd get through this without someone getting hurt._

6666

"Good morning," Director Robert Lennox greeted them. "Please take your seats." Frank and Joe headed for the right side of the conference room, looking at the three other agents already seated with curiosity. Frank and Joe both had worn black suits and ties for the occasion, their visitor badges glimmering from their breast pocket. Nancy walked into the room dazzling Frank with the dark blue pants and what looked to be a light blue silk blouse underneath a matching dark blue coat. Without looking at the Hardys' she purposely sat at the opposite end of the table as them with one of the unfamiliar agents.

"I would like to introduce one of my agents, Nancy Drew and from the Bureau, we have Agents Frank and Joe Hardy," Director Lennox said making no effort to try to distinguish the brothers from each other. Director Lennox walked towards the end of the long white room to the chair in front of the table that overlooked the city. Buildings rose up distinctly behind him from all directions as cars and people made the effort to weave through the intimidating structures.

He took the head seat with a grunt as he forced his large body mass into the chair. "With us today, representing distinguished members of the Board are Senior Officer Agent Tom Madison," Lennox said gesturing to the tall white haired men with intimidating blue eyes who sat to the Director's left. "Director of Agency Affairs Don Parsons." Lennox gestured to a much younger looking man than Agent Madison with dark brown hair. He was situated in between Frank and Agent Madison. "And Director of Human Resources Ellen Bordeaux," Lennox said concluding introductions by gesturing to an unreadable woman with large brown eyes and tight red lips sitting next to Nancy.

"I would like to get started by—" Director Lennox began.

"Sir?" Nancy interrupted. "I was under the impression that this review would be just between us."

Director Lennox eyed Nancy as if he were a parent scolding a child. "The Board as well as myself, wanted to see the result of your progress so we can determine how long we thing this investigation should continue.

"Now as I was saying I would like to start by hearing from you, Agent Drew. Please tell us what progress you've made on your case." Frank watched as Nancy took a deep breath. She knew what was on the line. If she couldn't convince these people that the case neither Frank and she was pretty sure Joe, no longer believed existed then there was no way that they would spend any more time or money on it. If she couldn't keep this case open, he didn't know what she'd do.

6666

"_Callie?" Nancy asked looking at Frank with the same confused look Joe had previously bestowed on him. "Frank, what's going on?" _

_Before Frank could answer, Callie herself walked up. The only way Frank could describe her was limp. Her hair fell with little to no volume at her shoulders, her face was devoid of her normal make-up and almost fixed in a permanent frown. _

"_Oh, Frank!" Callie cried running into his arms and taking him into a hug and crying into his chest. "I'm sorry for coming, I know we're not supposed to, but I needed to see you, I-I don't think I can d-do this by-by m-myself," Callie sobbed._

"_Shh, it's okay," Frank soothed rubbing her back and trying to avoid the shocked looks Nancy was giving him._

_Callie pulled away for a brief moment to look at him. "She died, Frank. My mom died last night." Her head fell back onto his chest as a fresh boat of sobs overtook her. Frank held her tightly against him as her body shuddered with her tears. He looked up to find Joe shaking his head and Nancy no longer there._

6666

"During Agent Frank and Joe Hardy's stay, we've been focused on the Senator's death. Further investigation revealed that one of the nurses there, Rhonda Cunningham, may have vital information in determining the people responsible for the Senator's death," Nancy stated.

"Pardon me, Agent Drew," Nancy looked over to Director Bordeaux who'd spoken. "You mentioned in your proposal that you believed the deaths you've been researching into were a result of terrorist activities. Have you found any more evidence leading to that conclusion?"

"No, but for these murders to be connected, it's the only proposal that makes sense. Now—"

"I'm sorry Agent Drew, but what evidence is there that these so-called murders are connected?" Director Parsons broke in.

Nancy looked slightly nervous, but somehow she managed to keep her voice controlled. "The belief is that an unidentified terrorist group is trying to seek revenge on the government for initiating the War in Iraq. They're doing this by murdering government officials to look like accidents. Since none of the deaths have occurred in the same hospitals of by the same physicians or nurses, it's led me to believe that more than one person is contributing," Nancy explained.

"Terrorists tend to make their message clearly than by performing covert operations. Any reasoning to believe why they haven't made themselves more open?" Agent Madison asked.

"I believe that their message in this case is being made more efficiently. No one seems to believe that any connection is present, so they don't have to worry about exposure. Meanwhile, they're effectively making their point by killing people who are involved in the creation and prevention of this war," Nancy answered.

"It seems to me, Agent Drew," Agent Madison argued, "that there are a lot more beliefs and theories than evidence for your case."

Nancy struggled to control herself from becoming angry. These were all arguments she'd been fending off from Frank and here she had to go and defend herself all over again for the validity of the case. She knew in order to keep it open she had to stay calm.

"I beg your pardon, but I've been working on this case for almost a month. I've done the majority of the research and investigations myself. With the approval of you and your colleagues I've been given the chance to have more help on a very preliminary case. Director Lennox has asked me to bring something concrete in the three days I've had with the Hardys'. Three days is not enough time to give you the results I'm sure you're looking for. If perhaps, I had another month—"

"A month!" Director Lennox shouted. "Agent Drew, seeing as how you've been working on this case for a month and have nothing but speculation, I'm not seeing the benefits of supplying you with another."

"There are cases that have been open longer than mine," Nancy argued. "Cases that have gone on for years looking into dead-end leads—"

"Yes, Agent Drew," Director Bordeaux spoke up, "leads. Those cases had leads. I'm not seeing many potential leads aside from this Rhonda Cunningham you mentioned. Please, why have you not been able to come in contact with her?"

"She's been unreachable. However, I believe that she will—"

"We've heard enough of your beliefs, Agent Drew," Agent Madison argued, his face cold. "I want to know if you have any solid evidence that brings any of the ideas you've brought into this room today to have any sustenance."

Nancy looked into the unrelenting eyes of the Board members, her director and Frank and Joe. None of them believed her, believed in her. "I'm sorry if all you feel as if this is a waste of time, but the fact is, if this terrorist group exists, we're in big trouble, because there's no telling how far into the system these people have infiltrated. If—"

"Agent Drew, answer Agent Madison's question," Director Lennox growled.

Nancy looked at her director and then past him, out into the city. "No, Sir."

"Agent Joe Hardy, what is your opinion about this case?" Director Lennox asked.

Joe looked uncomfortable, glancing at both Nancy and everyone else in the room. "Honestly, Sir, I don't know what to believe. Agent Drew has brought up some interesting points to consider, but the lack of anything concrete is hard to see the truth in her claims." Nancy looked at Joe stunned. She'd thought that Joe would giver her some sort of chance, be her miracle in somehow changing everyone's minds.

"Do you believe, Agent Hardy, that it would be worth the Agency's time and money to research further into this case?" Director Parsons proposed.

"I don't think it would be asking too much to give Agent Drew a little more time to find evidence to satisfy the Agency," Joe answered honestly. Nancy relaxed a little, inwardly thanking Joe, but immediately found herself becoming tense again as Director Lennox's eyes fell on Frank.

6666

_Frank walked up to the door of Nancy's cabin, hesitating before opening it. After Nancy had run off, Frank had managed to escort Callie and Joe back to their hotel rooms, promising to find a way to meet them for dinner, insisting he needed to change. In actuality, he was dying to find Nancy. He didn't know what was going through her mind right now, but he needed to tell her something, the problem was he didn't know exactly what._

_He gave one last hesitation before turning the knob and walking inside. The cabin was completely wooden and inside everything was symmetrical. Ten iron post beds were aligned with the headboard against the walls on either side. An identical chest rested at the foot of every bed. Three perfectly square windows on both long walls were the only source of natural light. In the back, a doorway was led to the showers and bathrooms. _

_A few women looked at him curiously. It was a general rule that men and women weren't allowed in each other's cabins, so the looks weren't unjustified. However, he was there for a reason, and he wasn't turning back. He caught sight of Nancy sitting on a bed near the back of the room. He walked towards her till he was standing in front of her. If she saw him, she gave no indication, causing Frank to drop down on one knee before her._

"_Hey," he greeted, not really know what else to say._

"_Hi," she responded back moodily. A moment of silence fell between them, until Nancy finally looked up. "So, what's going on Frank? Why did Callie travel five hours to see you?"_

"_Her mother just died, Nan," Frank answered, knowing that by answering the question that way he was also purposefully not answering._

_Nancy eyed him with disbelief. "Okay, I would understand that after breaking up with her, you two may have agreed to stay friends, and she'd want your comfort, but I need to know if you guys are just close friends or is there something more between you two?"_

"_Are you jealous?" Frank asked surprised and trying desperately to avoid a direct answer._

_Nancy's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't under the impression the two of you were on such good terms since the break-up. You never mentioned her…situation."_

_Frank bit his lip before taking a big sigh. He gently took Nancy's hands into either one of his and forced himself to meet her eyes. "Nancy, I never broke up with Callie," Frank finally admitted honestly. "The day you saw me on the phone with her, she told me that her mother had just fallen into a coma and after hearing that and hearing how upset it made her, I couldn't add to her misery. She felt alone enough as it was, I couldn't sit there and not support her."_

_Nancy's eyes turned icy cold as she snatched her hands out of Frank's grip. "So, you thought lying to me would make it all better? Until Callie's mother either died or got well again you thought it'd be fun to have it both ways for awhile?"_

"_It's not like that, Nancy," Frank argued. "I didn't want to hurt either of you, but I couldn't stand the idea of telling you we couldn't be together for who knows how long, and God knows I couldn't have told Callie that we're no longer together while her mom is the hospital. What would you have done?"_

"_I would have been honest," Nancy hissed. "If Callie really respected you as a friend as much as you say she does then it wouldn't have mattered. Or how about this? You could have told me the truth instead of leading me on and making me believe that we were in a relationship. I told you how I felt and I would have waited, Frank." Frank's heart clenched painfully. _She would have waited.

"_Tell me, Frank," Nancy said standing. "When your little plan had worked itself out and you finally did break up with Callie were you going to tell me the truth?" Frank didn't answer, because honestly, he hadn't thought that far. He believed when that moment came it wouldn't matter because then all his words would be true. _

_From Frank's absence response Nancy knew she had her answer. "Please leave, Frank."_

"_Nancy," Frank said desperately, almost feeling as if this would be his last chance to explain._

"_Go!" Frank saw the anger in her eyes and also the tears she was holding back. He knew that they were because of him and that made it hurt so much more._

6666

"Agent Frank Hardy, please tell us your opinion," Director Lennox requested. Frank could feel the intensity of Nancy's gaze. He wanted to believe her, he wanted to help her with this case, but that was hard to do when very little evidence supported that there was one. If he was going to help her, he had to be honest, he decided. He had to tell them exactly the way he understood it. He knew she wouldn't support him, would probably never talk to him, but he told himself it was for the best.

"I believe that Agent Drew would have had ample time to gather evidence for this case if it existed," Frank stated. Frank kept his eyes off Nancy, knowing that he wouldn't be able to continue if he saw her looking at him that way again.

6666

_Frank glanced over at Nancy from where he was standing in the line-up but she was looking directly forward with perfect posture, not even aware of his presence. As soon as their commander dismissed them he headed for her. He however, was forced to wait when their commander reached her first. He stood impatiently, but nearly froze when he heard the word transfer. She gave him a smile and a firm handshake before turning and heading back in the direction of her cabin. _

_Frank was pretty sure she'd seen him, but she gave him no attention. He hadn't talked to her for almost a week. She'd made sure that she wasn't easy to find, but everything he'd prepared to say to her during that span of time suddenly seemed insignificant after hearing that word. _

"_Nancy!" He called. She didn't pay any attention, at least, not until he ran directly in front of her path. _

_She came to an instant stop, arms crossed. "What, Frank?" _

"_Are you leaving?" Frank asked._

_Nancy_ _nodded. "I've decided to transfer to the CIA. I thought that I would fit-in better there. That's where I'll complete my training. Anything else?"_

_Frank looked at her passive demeanor angrily. "So is that your solution, Nancy? You're just going to run away because of one little mistake?"_

_If Frank thought he'd seen Nancy angry, he was wrong. "One little mistake?" Nancy articulated, her voice dangerously low. "You lied to me, and not only that, but if you hadn't gotten caught, you were never going to tell me! I thought our friendship at least meant more to you than that! I don't want to be here, around someone who treats me that way."_

6666

"Sir, if I may—" Nancy started.

"Relax, Agent Drew. Agent Hardy is free to express his opinion, and I wish to hear his reasoning," Director Lennox said calmly. "Anything else you'd like to add, Agent Hardy?"

Frank swallowed. "Yes." Nancy's glare in his direction changed to widened eyes.

"Agent Drew, during the duration of our stay has made mention that she was searching for her father's murderer. I believe that her theories have been derived from a need for closure," Frank explained.

"You think I'm crazy!" Nancy yelled standing up, her eyes on Frank.

"Sit down, Agent Drew!" Director Lennox ordered.

"No, but I think you need help," Frank responded. If there had been any hope of reconciling the moment Frank said those words all hope had been obliterated. Nancy stood there, stunned.

"Take your seat, if you please Agent Drew," Director Lennox requested once more, this time with a low threatening growl. Nancy responded slowly, shock and anger manipulating her features.

"Are you a psychiatrist, Agent Hardy?" Agent Madison asked.

"No, I am not," Frank answered. "But I worked with Agent Drew a long time ago, before she joined the Agency. Her instincts were almost always right, but they usually had some basis. In emotional situations, she has a tendency to put her work ahead of everything, including herself. I don't believe that Agent Drew has had sufficient time to recover from the shock of losing her father before jumping into her work."

"If no one has any more questions," Director Lennox paused. The members of the Board shook their head as Director Lennox's eyes passed over them. "Alright, thank you all for coming in. Agent Drew," Nancy looked up, "You will be hearing within the week the results about the Board's decision to allow a continuance of your investigation."

"Yes, Sir," she answered quietly. Without another word to anyone, she left the room.

6666

"_I'm sorry I lied to you, that was wrong, Nancy, and I know that, but aside from postponing the break-up it wasn't like I was trying to have it both ways. Nothing would have happened between Callie and me. I just couldn't break up with her while her mother was dying and I honestly can't believe you'd do something like that to Ned."_

"_I would be honest with Ned. I was honest with Ned. Why be in a sympathetic relationship? There's nothing there. It wouldn't be fair to him. If he didn't want me there fine, but sooner or later we would talk about it and know it was the right thing to do," Nancy said._

"_That may work for you, but I couldn't do that to Callie." Nancy stared at him for a second, measuring the truth in his words and looking as if she didn't believe him. _

"_Fine," Nancy answered before turning to walk away._

"_I made a mistake, it doesn't mean you need to leave, that we can't work this out," Frank insisted pulling her back._

_Nancy_ _shook her head. "Frank, I gave you all the time you needed to make a decision; work things out with Callie. Do you know why I did that? Because it made sense. You would have a chance to keep people from getting hurt by making a decision you wouldn't regret. You couldn't even do that! And now you've hurt me." Nancy took a deep breath. _

"_It still doesn't mean you have to leave. We'll take things easy for awhile. Take a break if you want, but you don't need to leave, Nancy, please."_

_Nancy_ _took a deep breath as if she was struggling to keep from crying. Frank's pleas cried out to her heart it was all she could do to keep strong and turn away from them. "I'm not leaving because of you Frank, I'm leaving for me." She released a shuddering breath. "Leaving may be a mistake; you and I make mistakes. We find out we're wrong and we move on and make new mistakes all over again. If this is a mistake, I'm following it until I know for sure it is one, otherwise, I'll never know. Good-bye, Frank."_

6666

Frank slammed the phone down onto the receiver. "Dammit, Nancy!" He'd already tried calling her three times and stopping by her office and her house. He couldn't find her anywhere. The decision had come in yesterday, three days after the hearing. The Agency was suspending the investigation and Nancy was to take the next three weeks off to recover from her father's death. During that time, she would be required to see a licensed therapist twice a week. Her leave was to start immediately.

During those three days before the Board's announcement, Nancy refused to speak to either Frank or Joe. Neither of them had seen or heard from her. Director Lennox had called to give them the Board's conclusion and tell them they could return home. Their plane was to leave in two hours and he had lost all hope of attempting to explain himself to her. He believed in what he said at the hearing. The Nancy Drew he saw over the last few days of his visit was not the one he knew, or used to know he should say. He honestly thought something was wrong with her and he hoped that therapy could help straighten things out for her. He knew she probably hated him, but hopefully it was for the best and maybe at some point she'd see that too.

"No luck?" Joe asked glancing at the phone as he exited the bedroom, his suitcase in hand.

"No," Frank answered wearily. Joe put his suitcase down and came over and sat next his brother.

"You can't help but to understand why she might be taking this a little personally," Joe said.

"That's not funny," Frank grumbled.

"I'm not trying to be funny," Joe insisted. "But this is all hard for her."

"Do you think I wanted to be the bad guy in all this, Joe?" Frank demanded.

"No, and she'll see that eventually. She's just got a grudge against you," Joe admitted. "However, it wouldn't have killed you to give her just a little more time and suggest therapy."

"My job isn't to make things easier for her," Frank answered. "They asked for my opinion and I gave it."

"It's not your _professional_ job to make things easier for her, but what about as a friend?" Joe asked. "Just a thought."

"Since when did you become all psychoanalytical?" Frank asked.

"Took a psych class in college," Joe answered. Frank looked at him in disbelief. "Fine, you want a real answer? Because somewhere along the line your people skills have gone out the window," Joe stood up and walked towards the living room and stood in front of the television. He picked-up the remote off the table and paused for a moment before hitting the power button. "Or maybe your people skills just suck when you're around Nancy," Joe said thoughtfully. Joe shrugged at his brother. "I dunno, something to think about." Joe pushed the power button and stretched out, placing his legs on the coffee table to use as a foot rest. Frank looked at his brother in amazement before glancing at the phone one last time and making his way into the bedroom to finish packing.


	8. Broken Open

A/N: Phew, a total of 15 pages. That should be well worth the wait I hope. Thanks goes out as always to those who reviewed and have been patient during my long hiatus. I am done with my classes for the semester and thankfully won't have to deal with that again till mid-January. Enjoy!

Chapter 7

Frank stared blankly at his computer screen as he typed blindly, but miraculously coherently. The debrief was due at the end of the day and he'd done enough debriefs at this point to know the structure by heart. All he had to do was describe things as they happened, and that's what he did. It was almost like someone was dictating and he typed as he heard it without registering what the person was even saying. In this case, that person was his brain.

"How's the Mercado case coming?" Joe asked, walking over to his brother's cubicle.

"Almost done," Frank said, typing as if Joe wasn't in the room.

"Wanna do lunch?" Joe suggested.

"Not that hungry." Joe rolled his eyes. Frank had been like this since they had gotten back from D.C. He answered questions barely using words with two syllables and acting distracted or completely unresponsive. If Frank ate or did anything at all, it was a result of a lot of coaxing from Joe.

"We're going to _Seniorita_'_s_," Joe answered, acting like Frank hadn't said anything.

"Joe, I'm not hungry," Frank emphasized as he stopped typing and hit the backspace button hard and repeatedly with his right ring finger.

"Bullshit. You've barely eaten in over a week. I think the biggest meal you've provided for yourself has been the corn bread muffin you purchased at the bakery downstairs last night."

"I can't help it, Joe, I'm worried," Frank said with a sigh. "I've called Nancy everyday since we got back and she hasn't returned any of my calls."

Joe grimaced, trying to find the best way to assure his brother. "She's probably fine. You know Nancy; she doesn't like to believe she needs help sometimes. She'll get over it."

"Right, like she got over the whole thing with Callie?" Frank muttered bitterly. "I just have a feeling that something's wrong." Joe shrugged off his brother's comment uneasily. The problem was, if something was wrong, they'd have no way of knowing for sure, since Nancy wasn't in contact with them.

"Come on the senioritas at _Seniorita's_ await!" Joe said, grabbing his brother and pulling him by the arm out of his seat and to his feet.

"Joe!"

"I heard the enchiladas are to die for." Frank shrugged his arm out of his brother's grip.

"Okay, okay, I'll go, just let me save this," Frank bent over the computer and went through the typical saving protocol as Joe hovered impatiently nearby. The next thing he knew Joe's cell phone started to ring. Joe picked up his phone and looked at it curiously, not recognizing the number.

"Agent Joe Hardy," Joe answered, never tiring of letting people know that he was an agent.

"Joe, thank God! It's Bess, Bess Marvin." Joe's eyes lit up. He hadn't seen Bess in a long time. They kept up e-mails from time-to-time, but generally they never saw each other unless she was traveling with Nancy.

"Bess, it's great to hear from you! How's the magazine business?" Frank looked up at Joe in surprise. Joe nodded at his brother eagerly. There had always been something between Bess and Joe, though neither knew what. Sometimes it felt like they were more like brother and sister, but other times, Joe couldn't take his eyes off her.

The last time Joe had talked to her she was a writer for an up and coming fashion magazine known as _G'Town_; an abbreviation for _Girl's Downtown_. It focused on coming up with original and affordable fashions for young women. It also helped to sponsor many charity events for kids needing help in obtaining scholarships and medical funding. Her headquarters were in New York City, so it really was a surprise that neither the Hardys' nor Bess had been able to find time to meet, even for a few hours.

"It's great. I'm an editor now," Bess explained.

"Congratulations!" Joe praised.

"Thanks," Bess said, blushing slightly. Her tone almost immediately turned sober. "Unfortunately, this isn't a social call."

"What's wrong?" Joe asked concerned.

"It's Nancy," Bess mumbled, tearing slightly.

"Nancy?" Joe repeated with alarm. Frank became all ears looking at Joe, his facial expression demanding to know what was going on. Joe hushed him.

"Yes, see the magazine decided to sponsor a charity banquet to raise money for the Children's Hospital of New York and they put me in charge to help head the organization of it. I asked Nancy to come to it and she didn't show up," Bess explained.

Joe tensed slightly. That definitely didn't sound like Nancy. "Anyway she may have forgotten?"

"No way. I've been talking about this non-stop for about month," Bess said with nervous laughter. "She told me she'd already bought the plane tickets. She was going to stay with me for a few days and then attend the event."

"When was she supposed to get there?"

"Three days ago. The charity was last night. I've been calling her home and cell like crazy but she hasn't answered. I even tried to call the CIA, but they said she was on extended leave." Bess paused. "I know that Nancy hasn't been on good terms with Frank for awhile, but I didn't know who else to turn to."

Joe thought about the situation for a moment. "Bess, where are you right now?"

"I'm at home," she answered sounding slightly confused.

"We're coming over, where do you live?" Bess gave him the address as Joe ignored Frank's anxious looks and walked over to his desk to find a pen and paper to copy down Bess's information.

"Alright, we'll see you in about 15 minutes," Joe said as soon as he'd confirmed the address.

"Thanks, Joe," Bess said with relief.

"No problem." Joe hung up and was immediately met by his brother.

"What's going on? Is Nancy okay?" Frank demanded.

"I don't know," Joe answered to both questions. He very quickly explained what Bess had told him and Frank's face paled.

"So, she wasn't just screening us," Frank realized. "Something's happened to her."

Joe glared at his brother. "Don't jump to conclusions yet. I know it looks bad but we won't know anything till we get the full story out of Bess."

Frank began to pace in front of computer, thinking aloud. "Nancy wouldn't forget to show up to something she had tickets for in advance, and she wouldn't ignore Bess's phone calls especially if she needed to apologize. There'd be a reason, Joe, and for some reason she's not telling anyone that reason. That means she's in a position where she can't—"

"Stop it!" Joe yelled, looking equally concerned. Frank stopped pacing and looked at his brother. "We don't know what's going on yet. So stop assuming the worse. Now, we're going to talk to Bess and then get in contact with the CIA. Then we'll decide where to go from there, okay?"

"Okay," Frank agreed quietly. He went over to his seat and grabbed his coat, leading the way out the door.

Neither of them said anything as they made their way down to the garage to pick up their car. It wasn't until they made it onto the highway to head into the city that either of them broke their committed silence.

"I knew something was wrong," Frank grumbled shaking his head.

"There's no way you could have known. She could be fine, Frank," Joe insisted, glancing at his brother briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

"Do you honestly believe that?" Joe stared at the car in front of him, letting the information they just received run through his head. He agreed with Frank, nothing they'd found out so far was pointing in a good direction. He couldn't bring himself to boast Frank's confidence without having some faith in his words.

"She's a strong woman," Joe whispered. Frank looked at his brother, both knowing that wasn't the kind of answer Frank was looking for. Unfortunately, Frank wouldn't have believed his brother's optimism anyway.

Ten minutes later, the two brothers were driving along a residential street just outside the city. Layers upon layers of brick apartments lined either side. Joe gradually slowed the car and then found himself parallel parking in front of one of the complexes on the right side of the road. Frank stole a look at his brother who caught his gaze before Frank opened his door and stepped out of the car. Joe followed and then took the lead into the building and made his way towards the stairs. After treading up two flights of stairs, Joe walked down the off-white hallway onto the third floor finally stopping in front of 326. He raised his hand, hesitated for a moment, and then gave three confident knocks on the door.

He heard the sound of a chain being released and then next thing he saw was a yellow figure coming at him. "Joe!" she cried before taking him in a crushing hug. She pulled away, "It's so great to see you!" She looked over at Frank and slowly took him in a hug as well, that Frank noted was nowhere as enthusiastic as her greeting to Joe.

Neither brother could deny, however, that Bess looked great. Her blond hair was slightly longer than she used to keep it, falling just past her shoulders with its gentle curls. She wore a pale yellow shirt with a collar that rested lightly against her arms and revealed the straps of her white tank top that rested on her shoulders. She was dressed in simple black slacks and matching yellow flip-flops. She was even thinner than Joe last remembered her.

"Come inside," Bess requested as she lead the way into her apartment and waiting at her door till everyone had entered before closing it.

"Have a seat. You guys want anything to eat? Drink?" Frank and Joe headed for the tan leather couch across from the glass coffee table. The whole room was painted in very light, delicate pink that was barely distinguishable from white itself. To compliment this color she had a light greenish-blue carpet. It gave the apartment a natural colorful look that was truly Bess.

"Just water for me," Frank requested. Bess looked at Joe.

"What do you got?" Joe asked.

Bess smiled. "Umm…let's see, water, orange juice, milk, lemonade, and I think some Miller Light."

"Lemonade would be great," Joe answered. The brothers sat waiting for Bess letting the sound of her movements fill the room. She entered the room juggling two glasses of lemonade against her chest with a plate of cookies on top and a glass of water in the other hand. Joe grabbed the plate of cookies off the top as Bess leaned over and placed the cup of water in front of Frank. Bess smiled at Joe and then used her now empty hand to give Joe his lemonade. Frank took a long drink from his glass.

"By the way, Bess, you look fabulous," Joe said. Bess took a seat in a matching leather chair, blushing slightly.

"Stress from work, mostly. If I knew all I needed to do was get a job to lose weight I would have done it a long time ago," Bess answered.

"You know you were never overweight," Joe insisted. Bess's cheeks flushed even more.

Frank set his glass down purposefully as if to remind them that he was in the room too. The rush of blood drained from Bess's cheeks as she turned to face Frank.

"Tell us everything," Frank requested gently.

"I pretty much told Joe everything—"

"When was the last time you heard from Nancy?" Joe asked.

"Monday, last week. I called Nancy really quick to confirm that she was coming. She was going to call me the night before she left to give me her flight information so I could pick her up. She didn't call me. I figured she'd forgot, so I found her arrival time online and waited at the airport. I never saw her, but since we're not aloud to wait at the gates anymore, I figured I could have missed her. I called her cell at that point, but she didn't answer. I assumed at that something had come up and she had to change her flight plan and didn't get a chance to tell me, but not being able to get in contact with her didn't reassure me," Bess explained.

"Unfortunately at the same time I was also busy with planning the event, so I could only investigate in free time, which wasn't very often. I managed to call the CIA on the day before the event to see if she was there, but that's when they told me she was on extended leave."

"Did you tell them that you thought she might be missing?" Frank asked.

"Yes, but I was talking to a secretary who didn't know anything more than that she was out of the office. She promised that she'd report this information to her superiors and that's the last I heard. If the CIA wouldn't help me, I didn't see any good in calling the police, so I called you guys," Bess finished.

"I'm calling Lennox," Frank claimed, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen.

"Who's Lennox?" Bess asked as she watched Frank leave.

"Director Lennox is Nancy's boss," Joe explained. Bess looked at him in confusion.

"How do you know Nancy's boss?" Joe sighed and gave Bess the abbreviated version of Nancy's case and everything that had transpired after Frank and Joe had arrived.

"My goodness! Do you think Nancy's alright?" Bess asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Joe answered honestly. "Did Nancy ever mention this case to you?"

Bess shook her head. "Not in detail at least. She said she's been trying to find her dad's murderer, but that's it."

Joe looked at Bess sadly. "How was she after Carson's death?"

Bess looked down at her hands. "She dropped all contact with everyone for a week afterwards. I would come by her house, call her all the time, but never saw her till the day of the funeral." Bess looked up distantly as if trying to remember. "She looked tired then. Dark circles around her eyes, but she was everyone's strength that day. She was there for Hannah, colleagues and friends of the family. She comforted everyone. I don't think she ever comforted herself."

Joe nodded distractedly. "What do you think she did for that week?"

Bess shrugged. "She never told me." Joe frowned. He had a hunch that that's when Nancy's research had begun. Maybe Frank hadn't been so off base to make that conclusion that Nancy was searching for closure.

From the kitchen, Joe heard the sound of Frank's flip phone slamming shut. He appeared a few seconds later. Bess and Joe looked at him expectantly.

Frank looked at them with a sort of grim determination. "We're going back to Washington."

7777

Frank, Joe and Bess arrived at the airport at seven the next morning. It was the first flight they could get out of New York. The Hardys' had been reluctant to allow Bess to come, but Bess could be quite stubborn as the brothers found out. She'd insisted on helping out for as long as her work would allow her. What impressed the brothers even more was that she managed to fit clothes for an undetermined amount of time all in one carry-on bag. Granted, that the one bag was still larger than either Frank's or Joe's, it was still very un-Bess.

Upon hearing this comment Bess glared at the boys. "I know how to prioritize when it counts, and it helps that I don't have to worry about impressing anyone."

Joe faked hurt. "You don't want to impress us? I'm insulted."

Bess rolled her eyes. "No, you're not, but on the off chance that you are I'm sure you'll get over it." Bess gave him a sweet smile before handing her boarding pass to the flight attendant. Joe and Frank followed suit and boarded the plane. Since they had gotten their tickets at the last minute, none of their seats were in the same place. However, as soon as they were in the air and the captain had turned off the fasten seat belt sign, Frank noticed that Joe had an empty seat next to him, and Frank took the opportunity to talk to his brother.

"Can you believe they don't even serve breakfast on this flight?" Joe asked as soon as Frank sat down. Frank raised an eyebrow at his brother. Joe recognized the look that told him Frank had something on his mind. "What is it?"

Frank shuffled his hands in his lap. He couldn't look his brother in the eye. "I've been trying to think of all the reasons Nancy might have gone missing. Who might want to take her— I mean, someone could want revenge or something like that but…" Joe knew exactly where Frank was going, but he knew Frank needed to say it. "But I know the most likely reason is that the case Nancy was working on is real. Someone found out that she knew too much." Frank untangled his hands and rubbed them against his face. When he pulled his hands away, they were shaking and he immediately cupped his hands together and placed them in his lap once more.

"You fought for what you believed in, so did she; it just so happened that you two didn't believe in the same thing." Joe placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's not going to do any good to dwell on the past. When we find Nancy, you can worry about apologizing, but right now we have to focus on getting her back."

"I just never really stopped to consider for real that she was right. It all seemed so implausible," Frank said shaking his head.

Frank shrugged. "You can't know everything, but if it makes you feel any better, I think there may have been truth in the idea that Nancy's faith in the case was for closure of her father's death, if that makes you feel any better."

"Not really, Joe," Frank said with a groan. "That just means that once again, she put others in front of herself, so now she has all these emotions bottled up."

"And all it really takes is a butterfly."

"A butterfly, Joe?"

"Mmhm, to open its wings." Frank looked at his brother with complete disbelief and confusion. Joe caught his gaze and laughed slightly.

"It's from a movie." Frank nodded, but continued to give Joe a funny look. "Look, all I'm saying is we don't know anything yet. We're going to go to the CIA and get some answers and then decide where to go from there. One step at a time, Frank, that's all we can do."

Frank's head dropped slightly before he turned back towards his brother, his eyes anxious. "It's not enough." Frank grabbed the seat in front of him and used it to help pull him to his feet. He walked down the aisle, back to his seat and remained there till the end of the flight.

Almost two hours later, the Captain's voice came over the intercom system, breaking Frank's concentration on the movie he wasn't watching. "Good morning, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed your flight. We've arrived at Dulles International Airport and will be de-boarding shortly. The current outside temperature is a comfortable seventy degrees with partly cloudy skies. The local time is 11:03 am. I would like to thank you all for choosing Delta and we hope to see you again if not on this flight, on another one of our flights." Frank tuned out the pilot as soon as he started talking about luggage pick-up and flight transfers.

The Captain's voice finally melted away with a brief round of static as the sound of metal seatbelts unbuckling and heavy-duty cloth being shifted against plastic filled the plane. Frank grabbed his suitcase and waited in line as the plane slowly began to empty. He found Bess already waiting in the terminal and walked up to meet her and wait for Joe. Bess gave him a sideways glance and couldn't resist pointing out the obvious. As far as Bess understood, Frank and Nancy were two of the most oblivious people in the world when it came to reading or understanding each other's emotions. Thank God at least Nancy had Bess and Frank had Joe to keep them on track when they could.

"For the record, you do know why Nancy took what you did so hard, don't you?" Bess asked. Frank gave Bess a hesitant glance before turning away.

"I don't know what you mean," Frank answered.

"Nancy doesn't go around dropping all contact with friends because of a silly argument," Bess said. "She only reacted that way because she really really likes you, Frank."

Frank gave Bess a look confusion and was about to respond when Joe walked over. "Let's go." Neither Frank nor Bess said anything after that, but Bess knew that what she'd said was on his mind.

Joe took the lead in organizing a rental car and twenty minutes later they were on the road heading towards the CIA building. They arrived at the parking garage and were greeted by the same officer they had met just over a week ago.

"Howdy, boys. I haven't seen you guys in awhile," he said glancing into the car. "And who do we have here?" he asked glancing at Bess who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Our friend, Bess Marvin," Joe answered.

"Nice to meetcha," he said nodded towards her. "Well, I hate to go through the same routine but I need to see your identification." Frank and Joe glanced at each other as they pulled out their badges from their previous visit and Bess handed him her driver's license. "I'll be back in one moment," he said winking at them before walking into the guard station.

"You think we'll get in?" Joe asked Frank.

"We're about to find out," Frank said holding his breath as the officer came back over.

"Sorry, boys, but these ID's are no longer valid. Do you have an appointment?" he asked as he handed Joe back the ID's. Joe quickly ran through the scenario of what would happen if he said yes. Most likely the guard would call someone inside to confirm the appointment before allowing them to enter without an ID. It wouldn't do any good.

"No, we don't. We're actually here to meet with the director, but he's not expecting us." The officer frowned at them. "I have no doubt you are who you say you are, otherwise

you wouldn't have gotten in here in the first place, but on the consequence of my own job I can't let you guys in here."

"We understand," Joe reassured. "We don't want to do anything to get you fired."

The officer looked at them thoughtfully. "Tell you what. The closest you can park if not here would be the Shell station three blocks over. It requires a little walking, but it'll work."

Joe smiled at him. "Thanks a lot. We owe you."

The officer waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Just go save the world or whatever it is you Feds do. That'll be enough for me." Joe chuckled as he reversed the car out of the garage, waving at the officer as they left.

"Phew, I feel like we were just inches from being caught," Bess said as Joe made his way back onto the main road.

"Caught? Caught doing what?" Joe asked.

"I don't know, breaking the law?" Bess suggested. Joe shot her a look.

"All those times you helped Nancy with breaking and entering on cases and this is when you feel like you're breaking the law?" Bess blushed.

"It's been awhile, okay? I'm working my way back up to when breaking the law was an everyday affair." Joe just laughed as he pulled the car into the Shell station and brought it to a stop. The three of them exited the car. Frank took steps towards the sidewalk when Joe called him back. He turned and saw his brother's gaze shifting from his watch.

"It's almost noon and I'm starving. How about we grab something from WaWa's to eat on the way over?" Frank looked at the neon sign for WaWa's located before the first row of gas pumps in agitation. He wanted to head over to the CIA building now. He looked at his brother and knew that it was stupid not to get something to eat if they were going to have energy to get through the day.

"Alright, but we need to be quick." The three of them walked into the WaWa's. Frank strode down the aisles of chips, candy, and microwavable soups before settling on a bag of Doritos. As he headed to the cashier to pay, he grabbed a copy of the Washington Post on a whim and placed them on the counter. Frank glanced at his brother who was debating with Bess between a roast beef and a turkey sandwich. He finished paying for his food just as Joe strode up, roast beef sandwich in hand.

"They really have too many choices nowadays," Joe complained as he placed it on the counter.

"Yeah, and you know if they had only two choices he'd be complaining that there were not enough," Bess said with a wink.

"That's my brother," Frank agreed. Bess paid for her chicken Caesar wrap, and with that the three of them started their walk towards the CIA building.

"That's all you got?" Bess asked looked wide-eyed at Frank's unopened bag of Doritos.

Frank shrugged. "Yeah, I don't even really want them." He extended his arm out with the Doritos towards Bess in an offer, but she shook her head.

"It's lucky that he even picked something out on his own," Joe said, before finishing the last bite of his sandwich. "It's been like trying to get a baby to eat strained peas, just won't do it."

Bess looked at Frank's back disapprovingly. "Not eating is not going to help the situation. You need your energy to do detective work, Frank Hardy."

"I'll remember to eat when this over," Frank said tiredly. Bess continued to assault Frank with her disapproving gaze but sympathized a little more with Frank's emotions. They completed the rest of the walk quickly and walked up the steps to the building with confidence.

"Alright, now we just got to act like we belong. Don't make eye contact with the secretary at the desk. Head straight towards the elevators, got it?" Frank instructed. Bess looked up at the building nervously but nodded in agreement with Joe.

Frank reached out and held the glass door open for his brother and Bess to walk through. Bess took a moment to gaze around the building to get her bearings before spotting the elevators in the back of the building. She skimmed over the receptionist's desk but turned away abruptly when she saw the woman lifting up her head.

"Relax, Bess," she heard Joe whisper into her ear.

"Easy for you to say. You're used to this stuff," Bess whispered back.

They reached the metal detector and began to empty out their keys when the guards turned to them as asked for their identification.

Frank looked down at his shirt in surprise and made an effort to move his hands across all his pockets. "Damn, I must have left it in my office. I can go get it and show it to you if you want."

The guards looked at him and then at Joe and Bess who also had proved unable to come up with a pass. "You three will have to go to the desk." The guard said, looking at them suspiciously.

"I swear I left it in my office. Twenty-third floor, I'll run up and bring it right down," Frank insisted. Even if all three of them couldn't get through their plan would still work if one of them got through.

"I'm sorry sir, but you're going to have to check in with the desk. I can't let you go upstairs without a valid pass." Frank glared at the guard before turning towards the desk. As soon as they started walking back towards the entrance Frank's glare disappeared.

"Any other ideas?" Frank asked.

Joe smiled. "Yes, I've got one. Let me handle this." Joe said as he approached the desk. Bess and Frank gave each other worried looks as Joe walked with a kind of swagger over to the desk.

"May I help you?" The receptionist asked, not seeming to play into Joe's flirtatious moves.

"Yes, I am Agent Joe Hardy and this here is my brother Agent Frank Hardy and one of our analysts Bess Marvin. We have a meeting with Jackie Perdue and she seems to have forgotten to send us our guest passes. Do you happen to have them?" Frank's eyes widened at the mention of Jackie's name. It was a bold move; Frank just prayed that it would work.

The receptionist shuffled through a few paper and folders on her desk but came up shaking her head. "I'm sorry but she didn't leave them with me."

Joe shook his head with a smile. "That's just like Jackie. Is there anyway you could call her for me?" The receptionist gave them a look of hesitation before picking up the phone and dialing.

"Agent Perdue, sorry for interrupting you but I've got an Agent Frank and Joe Hardy here who say they have an appointment with you." Joe waited at the desk, keeping his smile confident and assured as he waited. "Alright, thank you."

"She'll be down in a moment to escort you through security."

"Thanks so much." Joe turned away from the counter struggling to contain his excitement over his success.

"Good thinking," Frank praised his brother as soon as they were out of earshot of the receptionist.

"Who's Jackie Perdue?" Bess asked looked at the brothers in confusion.

"A woman who works on Nancy's floor. We bumped into her last time we were here," Joe explained.

"That's it? She wasn't even helping with the case?" Bess asked. "Why would she be willing to help us get into the building?"

"Beats me, but it doesn't matter. We're most likely only going to get one shot at talking to the director so we're going to take advantage of it," Frank responded.

A few minutes later, the sound of high heels against the title floor was heard and the brothers and Bess turned around to face the black haired woman. Today, her hair fell out to her shoulders in graceful waves. A pair of thin-rimmed glasses rested on her nose and gave her a very intellectual look, but her knee-length navy skirt and soft pink blouse made sure to establish her sense of style.

"Agents Frank and Joe Hardy, nice to see you. And you are?" she asked giving Bess a friendly questioning look.

"This is our friend, Bess Marvin," Joe introduced.

She nodded. "Nice to meet you." She turned to the Hardys'. "You two must have been desperate if you called for my help."

"We need to talk to Director Lennox about Nancy." Agent Perdue's warm expression changed to one of worry.

"Come on, let's get you through security." The three friends gave each other puzzled looks as Agent Perdue quickly led them through the metal detector and to the elevators. She did not speak again until they were inside.

"I've been worried about Nancy," Agent Perdue explained. "After the hearing I haven't heard anything from her. No one has. Director Lennox won't even talk about her. Rumor around the office is that she went crazy and has gone rogue."

"What?!" Frank exclaimed incredulously. "Nancy wouldn't do that."

"I know she wouldn't. We may have not have been the closest friends, but we talked on occasion and I've been on a few missions with her. She's really good at what she does and I don't think she'd risk losing her job."

"She was instructed to see a therapist after the hearing, before going on extended leave, do you know if she's been going to those appointments?" Joe asked.

Agent Perdue shook her head. "I can't say for sure. Lennox is the only one who'd know that." The elevator came to a stop and dinged as the doors opened, revealing the fifth floor. "You guys know where his office is so I'm going to get back to work, but I wish you luck."

"Thanks for helping us get up here," Joe said sincerely. "We don't want to get you into trouble or anything."

"Hey, I agreed to it, but I know you guys really want to help. I just want you to find Nancy and get things back to normal around here," she said giving them a smile before taking off down the hall.

"She was nice," Bess commented as they walked down the hall.

"Yes, but I doubt Director Lennox will be so welcoming," Joe said as they walked into the receptionist area to the Director's office. They gave a fleeting glance to the secretary before walking straight towards the office. They heard her protests but continued forward anyway and entered the Director's office without knocking.

Director Lennox looked up from his computer as they entered with surprise and then annoyance. The secretary entered right behind them looking apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, they just walked in, I'll get security," she said.

"We just need a minute," Frank insisted.

"It's alright, Shelly, they can stay for a _minute_," Director Lennox said pointedly. Shelly nodded apologetically and left the room, closing the door.

"Sir—" Frank began.

"How'd you get on this floor?" Director Lennox demanded.

"That's not important," Joe insisted.

"We need to talk about, Nancy."

"The decision is final," Director Lennox argued.

"We're not trying to reverse the decision," Frank said with irritation. "No one has been able to get in touch with Nancy since the hearing. We think she may be in trouble."

Director Lennox laughed to the three's dismay. "Agent Drew simply can't accept the fact that she may be wrong and she's taken matters into her own hands."

"What are you talking about?" Frank demanded.

"Agent Drew has showed how little she values her position at this agency. She has deliberately disobeyed the results of her hearing and failed to keep up with her meetings with her therapist. If Agent Drew doesn't get in contact with this office within the next week with some valid reasons for her behavior, she can consider her employment with us terminated."

"You're going to fire her?" Frank shouted in alarm. "Don't you get it? If she hasn't checked in something must have happened to her."

Director Lennox eyed Frank in surprise. "Agent Hardy, didn't you agree with the majority of the board that very little evidence existed for Agent Drew's case? That in all likely hood most of this case was an act of Agent Drew's depression over the loss of her father?"

"Yes, but—"

"So, what _evidence _do _you _have that Agent Drew is in danger over a case that is a figment of her imagination?" Director Lennox asked leaning back in his chair, a look of triumph on his face.

"I think the fact she's missing is a good indication," Frank pointed. "You said it yourself when we first got here that she is a good agent. That shows dedication. Despite the ruling of the board she would not let it disrupt her life so much as to ruin her career."

"And yet I'm still waiting for evidence," Director Lennox said with irritation. "Agent Drew may be a good agent, but I think we've all realized that she's not in a right state of mind right now. That results in any past credibility to become void. If Agent Drew isn't willing to get help herself, there's nothing I can do to help her. She has one week," Lennox concluded.

"Sir—" Frank growled and Joe could instantly tell that his brother was about to explode.

"Frank—" Joe broke in. Frank wasn't going to get anymore information out of Lennox through this line of questioning.

"One more thing, Sir," Joe said. "You said that Nancy failed to keep up with her appointments with her therapist. Does that mean that she went to one?"

"Yes, she did, but only one," Director Lennox replied.

"Could we have his name?"

Director Lennox glared at Joe. "Certainly not. It's not of any relevance to you what occurs in those proceedings. He wouldn't be allowed to discuss with you about their meeting anyway, not only because of doctor-patient privilege, but you would need the proper clearance."

"Under the circumstances—" Frank started again.

"There are no circumstances, Agent Hardy!" Director Lennox barked. "I don't know all the details of your past connections to Agent Drew and I certainly don't care but have you considered, Agent Hardy that maybe she isn't keeping in touch because she doesn't want to talk to you?"

Frank made a movement to speak but Bess touched his arm gently. "Director Lennox, Sir, I'm Bess Marvin and a very good friend to Nancy. Nancy was supposed to meet me in New York a few days ago but failed to show up. She never called or gave me any explanation and she hasn't returned any of my calls either and we're on good terms."

Director Lennox looked at Bess with a little more sympathy but still spoke unyieldingly. "Look, the CIA has officially closed Agent Drew's case so I cannot investigate it without evidence. If you three honestly believe that Agent Drew is in trouble than you need to get me evidence of some sort of foul play. Other than that, I can't help you."

"Thank you, Sir," Bess whispered turning and grabbing Frank's arm as she did. Frank sent Director Lennox one last glare before Joe shut the door to the room where Bess let go of his arm and they walked to the elevator.

"What were you thinking?" Joe demanded as soon as the doors to the elevator had slammed shut. "Blowing up at the Director of the CIA isn't going to do us any favors."

Frank ran a hand through his hair and kept his eyes to the floor. "I know, I'm sorry." Frank glanced at his brother and Joe caught only a glimpse of the fear in his eyes but it made him feel as if the world was crashing down over him. Joe was thoroughly worried about Nancy as well. It seemed as if Nancy was indeed in trouble, but none of them had any idea why or who to look for.

"What do we do now?" Bess asked as the three of them stepped out once again onto the ground floor of the building.

No one answered immediately. "The therapist," Frank said thoughtfully. "We need to find out who Nancy talked to and see if he has any ideas where she might be."

"Do you know how many therapists there are in Washington?" Bess said shaking her head. "There's no way we'd be able to find which one she talked to."

Joe smiled. "That's true, but Director Lennox already narrowed down the list significantly for us."

Frank's eyes widened. "He has to have the proper clearance! There must be a list of therapists that the CIA refers patients to."

"I think we should check into a hotel," Bess suggested.

"Good idea," Joe agreed as he pulled out the keys to their rental car. The three of them got inside. A minute later they were on their way down the street.

"So, is there anyone we can suspect in Nancy's case?" Bess asked.

Joe looked at his brother in the rearview mirror. "We can't be sure that this relates to Nancy's case."

Bess looked confused. "But Frank said…"

"He could be wrong," Joe insisted. Frank looked at his brother in surprise but turned away. The last thing he wanted was for Joe to cover for him. Frank knew what he'd said, and what the most logical conclusion pointed to. It was very unlikely that Nancy's disappearance did not relate to her case. _Which means_, Frank thought guiltily, _that Nancy most likely was right and I didn't give her a chance._

"Once we check into the hotel, we're going to search for possible leads on therapists and to see if any person may have been released from jail might have a grudge against Nancy," Joe finished. A few minutes of silence ensued before Joe elected to change the subject.

"How's George doing?" Bess gave Joe a smile.

"Great, actually," Bess said with a smile. "She's in California training for the Pacific Coast Triathlon."

Joe laughed. "I can't say I'm not surprised. Is she on the US team?"

"Yeah, this will be her second year. She used last year to get the experience but now she wants to try and qualify for the International Triathlon Union world championship so she can compete with other countries. I think she's crazy."

"It wouldn't be George if she wasn't out there playing some sport or another."

Bess nodded in agreement. "She did really well in school though. She graduated from University of Michigan with a degree in math of all things," Bess said with grimace. "Not my cup of tea."

"Well, the two of you have always been on opposite sides of the spectrum," Joe agreed.

"Yeah, and I love what I do." Joe turned and gave Bess a heart-melting smile before pulling into the parking lot in front of the Holiday Inn. They grabbed what few bags they had packed and headed to the front desk.

"May I help you?" The man asked looking them over with a friendly smile.

"Yes, could you tell me, are any of your suites available?" Joe requested. He felt a nudge from Bess but ignored it as he waited for the man to look through his computer.

"Actually, we do. Seventh floor, our rates are—"

"We'll take it," Joe insisted before he could start rattling off prices.

He reached underneath the counter and pulled out three small paper envelopes with keys inside. Joe passed them around to each of them before thanking the man and picking up his bag to head to the elevators.

"Joe!" Bess whispered harshly. "Have you never stayed at a Holiday Inn before? Their suite prices are insane! I could have paid for my own room; it would have been cheaper."

Joe pushed the button for the elevator. "Under the circumstances it's better that we stick together. Besides, I knew you'd be spending all your time in our room anyway, why not make it a little easier?" Joe said with a cheeky grin. Bess rolled her eyes and pushed Joe into the now open elevator as they made their way up.

"This is the same hotel Nancy was staying in," Frank said quietly. Joe looked at Frank in surprise.

"Are you serious?" Frank nodded. "Well then, checking out her room is going to be easier than I expected."

The elevator doors opened and the three friends stepped out onto the floor, turning left after walking down the corridor away from the elevators. Joe slipped out one of the keys from the envelope and slipped into the slot about the handle. The light turned green and Joe quickly pulled the card out and turned the handle.

"Wow," Bess murmured as she looked around. The inside looked like an apartment. A living room was set up with a couch and two sofa chairs, all tan leather facing a seventeen-inch television. A large window covered the majority of the far wall and over looked the streets of Washington D.C. A cherry wood dining room table sat to their left as they walked in. To their left was a small kitchen with an electric stove, microwave, fridge, and dishwasher. The carpet was a slightly reddish-brown than the couches and the walls were off-white with decorative pictures of various flowers. Two doors could be seen leading off to two bedrooms in other rooms.

"We'll take the right bedroom," Joe claimed as he moved his stuff in that direction, throwing his room key on the kitchen counter as he walked. Frank followed.

The room was setup like a typical hotel room would be set up. They had a full bathroom, two queen beds, and a television atop a six-drawer dresser. A desk sat in the corner near Joe's bed by the window and a medium-sized closest with half-open sliding doors was located right across from the bathroom. The brothers chose their sides of the room and opened their suitcases and pulled out their laptops.

"Did they give you each two keys too?" Bess called out from the other room where they could hear the sounds of the dresser drawers being opened and shut.

"Yeah, I think the sofa pulls out into a bed," Joe shouted back as he walked back into the living room, his laptop in hand.

"So, what's the last one for?" Bess asked, as she too entered the living room.

"Friends," Joe said with a wink.

"Don't tell me you hand out your key to random girls all the time," Bess joked.

"I gave them to you, didn't I?" Joe smiled and Bess laughed and hoped that her laughter would cover up the red that was flushing to her cheeks.

Frank put his computer on the counter and hooked up his power cord before waiting for the computer to boot up. "Alright, I'll look into angles of Nancy's case. See what I could find out about potential suspects for who may be behind these murders." Joe gave his brother a concerned glance, but Frank's eyes remained focused on the screen.

"Alright, I'll tap into the FBI database see if we can get any hits on recently released convicts."

"What can I do?" Bess asked as she stood behind Joe's chair. Joe paused and thought for a moment.

"Get your computer. I'm going to log you onto the FBI website under my name."

Bess's eyes widened. "Is that legal?"

"No," Joe admitted, "but I trust you're not going to look for dirt on anyone you dislike, so it's not going to matter." With a hint of uncertainty, Bess walked into her room and grabbed her lap-top and set herself up at the end of the table. As soon as she had booted up, Joe took Bess's spot in front of her computer and went through the process of logging onto the FBI database.

"The program's pretty simple. All you're going to do is type in Nancy's name and you're going to a list of results. Once you've narrowed down which one is the correct Nancy you will then have access to all her information."

"What am I looking for?' Bess asked.

"Anything irregular. I would start with credit card information, any recent deposits or withdrawals, and maybe if you're lucky, you can get information about incoming and outgoing calls from her hotel room. Because she's CIA we're not going to have access to her cell phone." Joe stood up and stepped around her chair and headed back to his computer and his seat.

"I don't feel right about this," Bess said, looking at her screen nervously.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. No one will ever know but us," Joe reassured.

"No, it's not that. I mean, Nancy's my best friend, but here I am digging into her life, and this isn't like trying to set her up on dates or anything, this is serious personal stuff."

Joe gave Bess a look of understanding. "I wouldn't have you doing this Bess, if it wasn't absolutely necessary. The more we can figure out about Nancy's activities the last few days the better we can narrow down when she went missing and maybe shine some light onto things about what happened to her."

"I know," Bess said with a sigh before turning back to her computer. Joe gazed at Bess for a few moments longer and then turned his attention back to his own computer. Soon, the only sound heard throughout the room was the sound of fingers moving rapidly across the keys and molding together in the uneven synchronized pattern of rain. Before they knew it, darkness filled the room and their desire to work kept them so busy that no one had even gotten up to turn on the lights, leaving the job to their computer screens.

"That's it," Joe said tiredly rubbing his eyes. "I can't take it anymore. I need food."

"Definitely," Bess agreed getting out of her chair to walk her legs and stretch her arms. Frank slouched back against his chair trying to get the kinks out.

"Pizza?' Joe asked.

"Works for me," Bess agreed. Frank nodded in agreement.

"Any requests for toppings?"

"Anything but anchovies," Bess requested.

"Pepperoni it is." Joe went over to his computer and did some rapid typing. "Excellent, I love the internet," Joe grinned at them as he opened his cell phone and copied a number off the screen before walking into Bess's room to order.

"How are you doing?" Bess asked Frank gently.

Frank looked up at Bess tiredly. "I'm getting nowhere. These people are going to great lengths to cover their identities and I don't understand why."

"Maybe Joe's right. Maybe it is someone who's got a grudge against Nancy."

Frank shook his head looking tiredly at the screen. "It just doesn't fit. It's too coincidental." Bess opened her mouth to speak but was stopped as Frank's fist slammed down on the table. "I should have believed her! If I had I would have known a lot more about what was going on. I would have known who did this and how to get Nancy back."

Bess rolled her eyes, all sympathy gone. "Because you could see into the future? Because you would know who was behind this even before Nancy? You're not Superman, Frank, stop pretending like you are. You're a human capable of error. Get up and get over it. When we find Nancy, you can apologize, until then we're going to keep searching optimistically and without blame," Bess finished pointedly.

Frank stared at Bess in quiet shock. Such a speech was very uncharacteristic of shy Bess. The editing world had apparently done wonders for her.

"Twenty minutes," Joe said walking back into the room. He made a half circle towards the table and threw his cell-phone on it before turning back and heading for the couch. He plopped down on it with a satisfied sigh as he snatched up the remote.

Bess stood up as a gesture to head towards the television. "You coming."

Frank glanced up at her and then back at the screen. "No, I think I'm—"

"Wasn't a question," Bess said, her voice commanding. Frank's eyes met Bess's stubborn ones and he thought long and hard about how long he wanted to draw this argument out. Finally, he decided, he just didn't have the energy.

"One minute," Frank relented. Bess gave him a satisfied smile and made her way to the couch, taking a seat next to Joe. Frank slowly closed the top to his computer and leaned back slightly in the chair so he could stretch his back and arms as he rubbed his eyes. Finally, he put his weight in his feet and made his way to the bedroom he and Joe were sharing. He had to admit, getting up and away from that computer screen felt good. After stopping at the bathroom he glanced down at the bed where he'd carelessly thrown the newspaper he'd bought at lunch. As an afterthought, he grabbed it before joining the others in the living room.

Joe had taken full control of the remote and seemed to have settled on a televised version of Mission Impossible. Frank meanwhile shifted around in the armchair until he got comfortable as he let his eyes run down the front page.

Joe was quite adamantly arguing with Bess why it was more worthwhile to watch Mission Impossible over CSI when he caught the expression on his brother's face. Frank had finished the first half of the front page and had just flipped to the bottom when an article had caught his eyes. With growing alarm his eyes met his brother's. Bess stared at the two in confusion.

"What is it?" Joe demanded.

"What was the name of the nurse that Nancy was trying to get in touch with?" Frank asked slowly, hoping that Joe would not say the name he was thinking of, had currently just read about so that they could laugh it off as Frank being paranoid.

"Rhonda Cunningham."

"Shit," Frank said once he realized his fears were true.

"What?"

"She's dead."


	9. Countdown

A/N: Okay, so this chapter isn't as long as the other one, I hope it's still entertaining. I apologize as well if any of you are getting bored with the investigation so far. I promise if you're waiting for something really interesting to come, you won't be disappointed, just hang in there. Once again, thanks go out to all my reviewers.

Chapter 8

"What?!"

Frank worked to straighten the paper as he read the article out loud.

"'_Thirty-four year-old nurse, Rhonda Cunningham was found dead in her suburban home yesterday. At around 3:30pm, a concerned neighbor had gone to check on Cunningham and found her in her bedroom. The neighbor at first believing that Cunningham was asleep was tempted to leave before spying the empty pill bottle on the nightstand. After Cunningham failed to respond at the neighbor's attempt at recitation, the neighbor called 911._

_Cunningham was rushed to nearby Washington Hospital where she was later pronounced dead at 4:03pm. Police have ruled the death as a suicide. A month ago, Cunningham was a suspect for malpractice in the ultimate death of Secretary of War, Dean Ridder. The Secretary was given proamatine instead of prazosin for his high blood pressure. This resulted in a drug-induced heart attack that killed the Secretary. _

"It talks for awhile about the Secretary," Frank said skimming the article quickly before reaching the bottom.

"_Friends and colleagues of Cunningham say that she was increasingly depressed about the Secretary's death and the termination of her employment at Georgetown University Hospital. The date of the funeral has yet to be determined."_

"This is bad," Joe whispered.

"You think!" Frank said angrily as he threw the paper to the ground. "This confirms it. This group does exist, otherwise they'd have no reason to kill Rhonda Cunningham and kidnap Nancy." Frank felt his hands tighten on the arm of the couch.

"Calm down. As much as this is bad news, we still have several leads to follow," Joe insisted. "First, we should review what we got from our day's worth of research."

Bess looked around at the boys as if waiting to see if they would speak before speaking herself. "Nancy hasn't used any credit cards in the last three weeks. No unusually large withdrawals or any within the last week. I was able to track down her hotel phone, but she didn't use it at all for outgoing calls. The couple calls that were incoming come from a CIA office. And as suspected, I had no luck on tracking down any of her cell-phone information."

Joe nodded thoughtfully. "Well, seeing as how this seems to be more geared towards Nancy's case now makes my afternoon's research a bust; not that there seemed to be anything too helpful in that."

"I found a couple of possibilities," Frank spoke up. "A group that calls themselves the Devil's Shade originated in North Korea around the early 1900s. They were communists and against almost everything American. They were said to be behind the bombing of several American embassies within Asia, but nothing could be proven. They succeeded in a couple of assassinations on visiting US representatives and senators in 1923 and 1927. If they've been active as of lately, however, they've covered their tracks well.

"I also looked into that group, the Allegiance, which Nancy talked about, but I'm starting to agree with her previous line of thinking. These groups were mostly geared towards the spread of communism or other specific events. It's more likely that this is a new group whose name or purpose isn't known to the US government yet," Frank concluded.

Joe nodded. "It makes sense. It explains why they are being so discrete. I'm willing to bet that Cunningham's death wasn't a suicide but someone went through a lot of trouble to make it look like one. The less this group does to make themselves known, the longer it will take the government to attempt and infiltrate them."

"We're going to need to see the autopsy report," Frank said.

"And we still have to check out Nancy's hotel room and find the therapist she talked to. It wouldn't hurt if we could visit Cunningham's place and try to talk to the neighbors to see if she had any visitors." A knock sounded at the door. "After food of course!"

Frank stayed in the chair as his brother leaped over the couch and made his way to the door. He let the paper fall into his lap as he rubbed his eyes to keep Joe and Bess from seeing the tears that had started to form. He felt Bess's warm hand against his shoulder as she rubbed up and down in comfort. He didn't look up or say a word and after a few minutes, the spot on his shoulder went cold.

"Frank, you should really have a slice." Frank heard his brother's call and watched in half interest as his hands clenched themselves into fists. Something inside him snapped as he stood angrily to his feet.

"Is that all you can think about? Worrying about food and eating; thinking of yourself?" Frank shook his head at his brother in disgust as he strode purposefully towards his brother. He stood in front of him, his eyes filled with frustration and pain spitting from his words. "These people have Nancy. It's only a matter of time before we read _her_ obituary in the paper. I'm not going to let that happen. I'm not going to waste my time doing nothing. I care too much about what happens to her. I am not going to lose her."

Joe watched his brother in a stunned silence as the sound of the door slamming filled the room. Joe had only seen his brother erupt like this a few times in his life and each time it scared the crap out of him. Those times had all been a result of a heavily emotional situation, when Joe's normally emotionally reserved brother finally acted on his mixed feelings in one terrifying storm. Joe never knew what he was capable of during these times because they happened so rarely, but it was generally never good.

"Joe?" Joe looked over at Bess's concerned face, forgetting that she was there. He gave her a small smile.

"You want another piece?" Joe mindlessly opened the box and started to reach for another piece.

"No, I'm fine." He felt Bess come up beside him. "He didn't mean that. Any of that. He knows that you're doing the best you can."

Joe closed the box and collapsed into one of the chairs at the dining table. "I know. He's scared. I guess one of the good things about them not talking for three years is that I very rarely see this side of him," Joe joked lightly without smiling.

Bess nodded. "I think that Nancy thought about Frank a lot more than she liked to admit. Actually, she admitted to very little. Frank was kinda off-limits in conversation. But I know her too well. I believe that she's probably been keeping an eye on you guys."

"Yeah, those two are unbelievable. Frank's had…probably two girlfriends since Nan. Dated maybe three others casually. He'd come home and I'd ask him his date went and he'd say something like, 'Okay, but she chews her hair' and then refuse to see her again."

"They're idiots," Bess said as she looked into Joe's eyes. Joe met hers.

"Total idiots," Joe agreed meeting her gaze. They stayed like that for a moment. Something in her eyes made him want to move closer, to know more, to see more. Slowly their the gap began to close. Joe instinctively moved his hand to her cheek and let his elbow rest on the table, or at least what he thought was the table. His hand instantly retracted from her cheek.

"Ugh," Joe exclaimed as he broke eye contact with Bess in grim realization.

Bess blinked to clear her vision of the moment as she looked over at Joe in confusion. He pulled up his elbow for her to see and she giggled. A pepperoni was clinging to the skin just below the elbow. Sauce surrounded the area as if the pepperoni was an inflamed cut. Cheese clung to the bottom of the pepperoni as if for comical emphasis.

Joe reached down and grabbed the top of it and grimaced as he peeled it off his arm. Then, without a second thought, he plopped it into his mouth.

"Ew," Bess squealed.

"What?" Joe asked as he reached for a napkin and began wiping the sauce off his arm.

"I can't believe you ate that."

"My arm's clean. Besides, _you_ almost kissed _that_," Joe argued with a smug grin.

"We did almost kiss, didn't we?" Bess said hesitantly.

"Yes, with no thanks to a badly-timed pepperoni." Joe threw the napkin on his plate and pushed the plate away from the edge of the table.

"What does this mean?"

Joe raised an eyebrow before smiling. "It means, Bess Marvin that I find you attractive." Joe watched with amused pleasure as Bess's cheeks turned fiery red. Joe leaned in again, but this time unhindered. He felt his lips meet Bess's in a soft and gentle kiss that left Joe's heart racing as they pulled away.

"Well," Bess said as they pulled away, "at least you haven't lost the Hardy charm."

Joe pretended to look offended. "Why would you think that?"

Bess grinned. "A badly-timed pepperoni."

8888

Frank felt shame as soon the door behind him slammed shut. He knew his brother didn't deserve any of that. He knew his brother was just as concerned as Frank was but Frank took it harder and they all knew why.

Frank had been on many cases, done more investigations than he could count, but being a member of the FBI, sometimes he really saw the worse in people. He'd seen family, mothers, daughters, brothers, sisters all sacrificed for greed or a quick getaway even. He'd seen death, murder, and the consequences of obsession combined with the hunger for information that made torture seem like what kids would do to ants with a magnifying glass.

He often wished for those days as an amateur detective; flirting with danger but never fully believing that death was possible. Back then, all it took was a look or touch from Nancy and Frank could hardly think of anything else for hours. He was stupid back then. Why they always forced themselves to pretend, to stop inches before a kiss they both wanted and hiding their feelings like they weren't there.

"I'm sorry, Nancy," he whispered as he walked. He never missed more than that moment that she wasn't around to hear him. He really wished he didn't know what the world was capable of. As an amateur detective there was a certain ignorance that Frank didn't have anymore. Torture, rape, murder, they were all things done for people to get ahead and bring closure to their reign of dominance.

Frank reached the elevator and paused, debating what to do now. He knew he should go back to the room and apologize, but he wasn't ready to do that yet. He wanted to feel productive. He didn't want to believe that they had wasted a whole day searching when Nancy had already been missing for at least three days, if not more. With determination he got into the elevator and pushed the button for the ground floor.

As soon as the elevator dinged he was already removing his badge from his pocket. The receptionist greeted his hurried manner with an open smile. "May I help you?"

"I'm Agent Frank Hardy from the FBI and I'm doing an investigation. I need the room key to 1047, please," he said showing her his badge.

She frowned. "I wasn't aware of an investigation."

_Crap. _"Yes, we're looking into the disappearance of Nancy Drew."

The name seemed unfamiliar to her. "Just a moment. Mr. Tagle!" she called. A tall, thin man in a black business suit walked over to them. He looked to be in his fifties as a result of his receding hairline that created an almost perfect u-shape towards the back of his head. The black tuffs of hair on either side of the shiny skin on top of his head reminded him of a mountain range with a perfectly cut valley running in between.

"Hello, my name is John Tagle, I'm the manager on duty today. What may I do for you?" he asked addressing Frank in a calm soothing voice.

"I'm from the Bureau," Frank said flipping open his badge again. "I need to get into room 1047 as part of investigation into the whereabouts of a missing woman."

Frank could tell that the man was skeptical as he looked at the badge but he didn't show it. "Agent Hardy, I'm not sure if you're aware of the procedures in a case like this. This hotel is more than willing to cooperate in a Federal investigation, but I cannot allow such an investigation without getting validation from a superior that you are who you say you are or that this is an active investigation."

"I see," Frank said, trying to figure out how to go about this. He knew Lennox wouldn't give him authorization, so it would be useless to give the man his name and as far as the Bureau was concerned, Frank was on vacation.

"If you would just have me contact the Bureau I can get this taken care of in no time and gladly give you access to anything you request."

Frank shook his head. "That won't be necessary," he said thinking quickly. The last thing he needed was for the hotel to be on alert for some guy they thought was posing as an FBI agent. "I'll contact my superiors and have them contact you. Thanks for your time." Frank turned around quickly and headed back towards the elevators.

He stepped inside and watched the doors close, thinking quickly. He'd broken into more secure rooms than ones provided at the Holiday Inn, unfortunately he had the technology of the Bureau to help him do it. He needed to think of an old school method to break into a hi-tech lock. He couldn't use a lock-pick on what he guessed was a magnetic key card swipe with a fail-secure mechanism.

With a burst of thought, he hit the button for the upcoming floor and exited, making his way towards the stairs. He walked purposefully down the stairs at an above normal pace and kept that pace once he reached the ground floor. He glanced over at the front desk as he walked past it, careful to stay behind the decorative white pillars and potted plants. He entered the gift shop and scrutinized the shelves as he walked past. He stopped only twice, paid for his purchases and left.

He searched for a private place where he could stop and get to work. Frank finally settled on the men's bathroom. He entered it and went directly to the nearest open the stall. He closed the door and placed one of the plastic handles on the coat hook behind the door. Frank reached in and pulled out the white travel-size hair dryer he'd purchased and his pocket knife. He placed the end with the plug between his legs so he could pull the cord of the blow dryer taunt. Carefully, he began stripping away the plastic insulation around the cord, until finally he'd exposed a good three inches of wire.

Being satisfied with the length he moved his hands up the wire till it reached the portion of wire closest to the blow dryer itself and where the insulation remained untouched. Using almost 180 degree bending motions in either direction he began created a stress point. It took several minutes, but finally, he watched in satisfaction as the wire finally snapped leaving the blow dryer in one hand and the cord in the other. In satisfaction, he placed both the dryer and cord back in the bag and pulled out his last purchase.

He took the pair of leather gloves out of their plastic bag and stuffed the wrapper into the bag as well. He grimaced a little as he began pulling the gloves on, realizing that the size he'd bought was a little too small. Finally finished, however, he opened the stall door and left purposefully without making eye contact with anyone. He made his way back to the elevators and this time hit the button for the tenth floor. _Nancy_'_s floor._

As the elevator doors opened to the tenth floor Frank immediately noticed the camera, only slightly concealed next to the wooden beam in the ceiling. He followed its line of vision and noticed it only seemed to be focused on the elevators, which was good. As he walked, he was careful to pay attention to any other cameras that may document what he was about to do, but couldn't make note of any.

_1047_. He stopped in front of the door and looked around. No one seemed to be around. _I should wait_, Frank thought to himself. _This would be much easier if I had a look out. _But he didn't want to waste time going down to their floor, apologizing to his brother, and coming back up. Besides he needed to do this. He needed to be the one to go into her room. Frank didn't understand exactly what emotion drove him to this conclusion, but it was one, he decided he needed to follow.

With one last look around and a careful pause to listen for footsteps Frank opened his bag and pulled out the dryer cord and began scanning for an outlet. With a groan, he realized the only one present was across the hall between to other rooms. He prayed the cord would be long enough and then realized that would be the least of his worries if someone just happened to glance down the hall and see him with a cord stretching towards a hotel room door.

He pulled out his own hotel room key and stuck it into the door, already knowing that the door was going to deny him access. To prove his prediction correct the LCD light above the lock turned red. He took a deep breath. Frank was only going to get one shot at this and he wasn't even positive it was going to work. Since Frank was pretty sure that the hotel used a fail-secure mechanism so that when the power went out the hotel doors would remain locked, he knew that if he put power into the lock that the door would unlock. He however, stood a good chance of short-circuiting the door lock and causing the fail-secure mechanism to activate anyway, so it was imperative that he opened the door immediately. Unfortunately, that wasn't even his biggest concern. Even if the fusion of power into the door lock was successful, he wasn't positive he could override the magnetic strip recognition. He hoped he could use the strip on the room key as a small conductor and confuse the recognition mechanism inside the lock into thinking that the correct key card had been inserted. Even short-circuiting the magnetic strip recognition system would work, but he wasn't positive he could make it happen.

He paused once again and did a quick once over of his hands to make sure no bare skin was showing. He did a quick check of the hall, listening for voices and footsteps. When he was sure all was clear he picked up the cord and held the insulation just below the revealing wire. Then, he grabbed then plug and put it into the outlet. Using just his knees he scooted over to Nancy's door. He pulled the key card out slightly so he could see the edge of the magnetic strip. Once that was done, he placed his left hand on the handle and his left shoulder against the door. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then without hesitation, opened them, forced the wire under the magnetic strip as he pushed in the card and the wire at the same time.

Frank pulled down on the handle frantically as he did this, prepared for the door to pop open. Just as quickly as he had forced the key card in, he removed it, still pulling on the handle. He heard a sizzle and then a popping noise coming from inside the key slot. Finally, he watched in satisfaction as the green and red light lit at the same time. In the one second these lights lit up, Frank pushed down on the door handle and before he knew it, he fell into Nancy's room.

Frank struggled to locate the live wire he'd been holding hoping that he could avoid landing on top of it. Miraculously he'd managed to clear the wire that had contracted due to the spring of the cord and come to rest near his feet. He took a moment to let relief overwhelm him at his success before he realized that he needed to unplug the cord and get inside before someone saw him. Frank pulled off his left glove using his teeth and stuffed it in between the door and the door jam to keep the door from closing all the way. He crawled over to the outlet and unplugged the wire before getting back up and kicking away the glove as he entered Nancy's hotel room at a walk.

He stood there for a minute letting the plastic bag fall next to the door and admired the room in surprise. He had half-expected to see the whole room in shambles. He had prepared himself for a room filled with signs of a struggle, but the room looked almost identical to the night when he'd come over during dinner. Everything was neatly in its place. Except for a sweat shirt resting over one of the dining room chairs, the room didn't even look like someone was living in it.

"The life of an agent," Frank mumbled to himself. The suite actually looked a lot like the one he was sharing with his brother. The couches were still leather, but black. A flowery theme filled the room enunciated by the rose-red carpet and complimenting flowery pictures, mostly of roses. Otherwise, the furniture and wall colorings were practically identical.

Frank looked around and decided to start his search in the kitchen. He really didn't know what he was looking for, but he figured if Nancy was keeping any information stored here she'd know how to hide it.

He started by searching through the cabinets. The majority of the shelves were empty. One cabinet contained some ramen noodles. The dishes, silverware, and cups he'd found had been provided by the hotel, but he even went so far as to remove every dish he could find and search the revealed shelves for anything hidden, but he found nothing. The fridge was just as empty as the shelves with the exception of a twelve-pack of diet Coke and a container of left-over and now wilted salad.

Frank decided to move on and after a quick search under the chairs and table in the dining room and the couches, sofa and behind the TV in the living room he turned towards the left bedroom. Unlike his room, this room only had a single bed. This bed was made following the hotel standards while the room itself did not even look lived in. Slightly puzzled, he began opening the dresser drawers and found them all empty. He then moved into the bathroom. All the white towels were resting neatly on hangers with a few extras sitting in all the available slots above the toilet.

The state of the room did not make sense to him. If Nancy had been staying in this room why was none of her stuff there? Then Frank remembered that Nancy's partner had been staying with her before he was assigned on a deep cover mission. Slightly relieved at this, Frank left the room and crossed the living room to enter Nancy's bedroom. This room too, had one bed and hardly looked touched. Frank hesitated for a moment as he reached out towards the drawers, understanding a little more why Bess had been so hesitant to search into Nancy's life, but it was something that he needed to do.

The first drawer he opened was of course her underwear drawer. Her selections made his heart pound as he pushed away lacey bras and underwear trying not to take the moment's pause to think about what she'd look like in them. With flustered nervousness he closed the drawer shut a little harder than he meant to. His search revealed nothing by the time he closed the last drawer with neatly folded work pants.

He stood up and looked behind the dresser before getting back down on his knees and feeling underneath the bed. A thorough search of the nightstand and desk compartments turned to nothing. He walked over to the closet and searched around the walls and shelves with his hands, coming up empty. A rather large suitcase stood against one of the walls. Lifting it and placing it on the bed it felt empty and when he opened it, he found it just that. He closed it and placed it back where he'd taken it from before standing up again.

He found himself staring at the hanging skirts and work coats and found himself slightly puzzled. There were more than a few empty hangers hanging empty in between the other items of clothing. In the scheme of things, it was probably nothing. She could have taken the items to the cleaners or they could be in her car, or at her office, but for some reason it bothered him.

Frank closed the closet door, slightly unnerved and walked into the bathroom. Almost as soon as he walked in, he noticed the man's razor resting in the sink and felt a tingle of jealousy go up his spine. _She uses his razor, it could be nothing_, Frank reminded himself. _But then again, I can't be positive that it is his razor. _Trying desperately to push the thought of Nancy with another man out of her mind he opened the cabinet to find half a tube of toothpaste and a bottle of sleeping pills that looked to be about two-thirds of the way full. Frank considered grabbing the bottle and taking it, thinking that it might be significant, but then thought better of it. There were plenty of reasons Nancy could have been having problems sleeping and none of them relate to her disappearance.

The bathtub revealed nothing of interest. A bottle of shampoo and another bottle of conditioner rested on the sides of the tub, but that was it. As he walked out, however, he looked over the sink and the dresser in confusion. Aside from the toothpaste, pills, and shampoo there were no signs of personal items. No make-up, perfume, hairbrush, toothbrush, feminine products, or deodorant, things that he never thought women went anywhere without. He thought for a moment that it was possible that Nancy could carry them with her so she could freshen up at the office if she pulled an all-nighter, but that did little to reassure his concerns.

Feeling even more confused than when he first walked in here, he looked over the living room one more time wondering if there's anything he could have missed. He spied a phone on the kitchen counter top and saw that it was blinking. Hoping that he could get some kind of lead to maybe when or why she disappeared, Frank walked over to the phone and put it to his ear as he pushed the button designated as the answering machine.

"You have six new messages," the electronic feminine voice told him. "To listen to your messages, press one." Frank did so and waited in anticipation.

"Agent Drew, this is Director Lennox. Dr. Gao has informed me that you've neglected to attend your scheduled appointment. If you do not abide by the rules as determined by the board, you will lose your employment with us. You will not be reminded again." Frank glared at the phone as the message ended. Even though he thought that Director Lennox was being an ass, he did have to admit, the man had just made their lives a whole lot easier. They now had the name of the therapist that Nancy was seeing. Frank quickly blew by the next message, which was a call from Dr. Gao's secretary reminding Nancy of her appointment last Friday.

Frank pressed another button and went on to the next message. "Hey Nan, it's Pete. Listen, I've tried calling your cell several times but got no answer and Ken says that he hasn't seen you at work but doesn't know any details. Could you call me on my cell to let me know that you're okay, please? Take care, Nan."

Frank let his thumb hover over the number seven in order to delete the message, but stopped himself and instead hit the number three.

"Message recorded on Tuesday, May 2 at 5:47pm." Frank's heart nearly stopped. Their original prediction of three days had been completely wrong. Nancy had disappeared sometime between Monday and Tuesday morning and with it now being Monday she'd been missing for almost a week.

Frank quickly listened to the other three messages, finding that they were all from Pete asking Nancy to call him back and tell him she was okay. After listening to the last message he slammed the phone down onto the receiver, grabbed the plastic bag he'd set by the door and left the room. He didn't bother with the elevator, heading straight for the stairs and down the three flights to his hotel room on the seventh floor. He pulled out his room key and slid it in the slot. When the light turned red he looked at the card in confusion for a minute before remembering that he'd probably fried the magnetic strip when he used it to get into Nancy room. Irritated at the slow down he knocked on the door.

"Frank!" Bess exclaimed, hugging him before he could enter. She pulled him away and looked at him carefully. Satisfied that he seemed to be okay she moved aside and let him in. "Where have you been?"

"Doing some detective work," Frank answered vaguely as he scanned the room for his brother and set the plastic bag on the counter.

"Where's Joe?"

"He went looking for you!" Bess's tone only slightly hid her obvious annoyance that Frank didn't seem to understand her concern.

"What?"

"You've been gone for two—make that two-and-a-half hours!" Bess glared at Frank as she pulled her cell phone off the table next to her computer. "We both thought you'd gone to cool off, but when you didn't come back after an hour-and-a-half, he went looking for you." He watched as she scrolled through her phone, hit a button, and put the phone to her ear. Frank listened to Bess's end of the conversation with growing guilt.

"Yes, he's here…Yes, he's fine. Apparently he was doing some _detecting_." Bess scowled in Frank's direction as she said the word. "Okay, see you when you get up here."

"Bess, look, I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to yell at Joe and I didn't mean for you guys to worry. I lost track of time."

"Fine," Bess said with a tone that said she was anything but fine, "but you know that I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

"I know," Frank agreed. "But I did get some leads."

Bess's curiosity seemed to get the better of her and her anger was temporarily forgotten. "What did you find out?"

"Well…" Frank started speaking but was interrupted by the sound of a key being put into the door and the handle turning. Joe walked into the room without looking at anyone as he put the chain on across the door. Then, with purposeful strides he walked right up to his brother and punched him without hesitation right in the jaw. Frank stumbled back as his neck did what felt like a 90 degree turn. As he brought his head slowly back around, he caught sight of Bess standing there with her hands over her mouth as if to stifle a scream and her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and concern. He brought his head back to its original position and looked at his angry brother.

"Joe…" Bess whimpered when it looked like he was going to hit Frank again. To both Frank and Bess's relief that was not his intention. Instead he kept his still clenched fist at his waist line as he stared his brother down.

"I can tolerate your being a jackass by yelling at me for no good reason. I can even shake off your selfishness about you thinking you're the only one who cares about Nancy; that I'm not working hard enough to try and find her. But I will not tolerate you storming out of this room and disappearing for hours on end without telling anyone where you are and how to contact you," Joe calmed down as his words released some of the edge off his anger. "Nancy is missing. I won't have you missing too and I will punch you again if that's what it takes to get you to your senses that you so willing lose when Nancy is in danger."

Frank looked at the ground for a moment and then back up at his brother, but did nothing to soothe the pain by placing a hand on his throbbing jaw. "You're right, Joe. I knew I was being an idiot the moment I left the room. I didn't mean to be gone so long. When I went down to the front desk and they wouldn't help me, I got reckless. I needed to do something other than sit at my computer. I thought by going to Nancy's room it would really help blow open the case. But I should have told you. I could have really used your help."

"I'm always here for you, Frank. Even when you're a jackass. Just remember that," Joe said with a small smile. "You want some ice for that?" Joe asked as an afterthought looking at the bruise starting to form on Frank's jaw.

"This? Nah. You hit like a girl," Frank lied.

Joe laughed. "You wish."

"I don't normally endorse fighting to get a point across," Bess spoke up as she came over to the brothers, "but I can't condemn it if it works." Frank rolled his eyes as Joe gave a brief chuckle.

"So, what did you find out?" Joe asked. Frank closed his eyes. The weight of what he'd found out and the stress of the day and being punched suddenly seemed to overtake him. He let his body slide down the back of the counter until he came to a sitting position on the floor. Joe and Bess huddled around him suddenly anxious that Joe may have done some serious damage. But Frank soon opened his eyes to their relief and quickly recapped his search of the bedroom and bringing up the things he'd thought were odd.

"I can't account for the clothes in the closet. Like you said there's reasoning behind that, but I do find the missing toiletries kinda odd," Bess said thoughtfully.

"Was a computer there? A laptop or anything?" Joe asked.

Frank shook his head. "But she could have left it at the office."

"What about all the portfolios for her case?"

"Could be at the office or in her car."

"Her car…" Joe repeated thoughtfully. "Bess, did you find any expenditure for a rental car in Nancy's accounts?"

"No, none."

"Then we can probably assume that the CIA is paying for it, which means it might be a little harder to track down."

"That's not all we need to look into," Frank said grimly. Bess and Joe turned the attention back to him. "I found out the name of the therapist Nancy's been seeing. Lennox let it slip on a message he left on Nancy's phone."

"Excellent! Way to go!" Joe whooped.

"There's more." Frank took a deep breath. "Her partner, Peter Denison, also left several messages on her hotel phone. Apparently he'd tried calling her cell phone a few times and hadn't got an answer so he tried the hotel." He paused. "His first call came on Tuesday around five-forty-five."

Bess's face went pale as both she and Joe realized what that meant. "That was a week ago!" Silence followed Bess's exclamation.

"These people, whoever they are, don't seem the type for torture. They kill under the radar and it's usually fast," Frank stated in a monotone voice.

"They left Rhonda Cunningham alive!" Joe protested.

"You don't think she was a member of the group and they silenced her because she was second guessing what she did?" Frank asked.

"We can't know exactly how involved she was in this till we talk to the neighbors."

"I'm just saying if they keep to their MO—" Frank couldn't bare to finish the sentence.

"Then-then we'd have a body by now," Joe finished with uncertain determination. "We're going to assume that Nancy is alive until proven otherwise, alright?" He asked looking around at everyone for approval. Bess nodded slightly teary-eyed as Joe looked at his brother.

"Alright," Frank agreed.

"Now, while _you _were gone, we did some investigating ourselves. We called up the morgue and requested an autopsy only to find that the family had already done that," Joe said. Frank's eyes widened. "Apparently, the brother was the one who insisted upon it. We need his permission to see the results."

"And the one we need to talk to and ask why," Frank agreed.

"Exactly. I'll try to get in touch with him. Frank, see if you have any luck finding out what kind of car Nancy drives. Bess, you'll do a search for Nancy's therapist. Get an address and phone number."

"He's not going to talk without a warrant," Frank reminded his brother.

"We don't need his medical opinion. If we're lucky enough to get him to supply that, great but at this point we're just trying to get a better idea of when Nancy went missing so we can track down her whereabouts."

With their jobs assigned, the three of them fell into silence once more aside from Joe's one-sided conversation with Joshua Cunningham.

"Got it," Bess spoke up. Joe had just closed his phone and upon hearing Bess's statement, he walked up to the table where Frank was already waiting patiently. "Dr. William Gao. He works at Washington Medical Services on the corner of 12th and G street."

"Make an appointment," Frank said.

Bess shook her head. "Can't, they have 9-5 hours."

"We can just drop by," Joe put-in. "Either way we've got a meeting set up with the brother. He wants us to meet him at Georgetown at 10am tomorrow."

"He's going to let us see the report?"

Joe nodded. "Apparently he doesn't think his sister killed herself and I told him we'd try and help figure out who did this." Frank gave him a look. "No, Frank, I didn't promise. If we're right about this the same people who kidnapped Nancy killed Rhonda. Hopefully, we can kill two birds with one stone."

"Joe—" Frank started as he tried to wipe the tiredness from his eyes.

"We'll find her," Joe reassured.

"No, it's not that," Frank said thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair slightly while his hands rested in a heap in his lap. "It's just, from what I remember of Nancy's case, of all the people who died, when and where, of Mr. Drew…Joe, if she was right about all that, we're not talking about one person. We're not talking about ten or twenty people. This could be huge. Hundreds and thousands of people, across the US." Frank leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table and his palms on his cheeks. "Joe, Nancy's results were focused around hospitals, but we don't know how their symptoms started."

"Carson," Joe whispered as he realized where his brother was going.

"Carson," Frank repeated in agreement.

"You've lost me," Bes said looking back and forth between the two brothers.

"Carson was poisoned in a restaurant," Joe answered simply. Bess still looked lost so Frank jumped in.

"These deaths are not limited to just doctors in hospitals. This group has its people working in many different facilities, performing murders on command."

"In other words," Joe said grimly, "it's like tracking down the mafia."

Bess's eyes fell as she absorbed the magnitude of what they were saying. "Except worse," Bess mumbled. "The mafia's only looking for money. This group is looking for blood."

* * *

_P.S. I just want to say a couple things about the chapter. First, I'm really sorry if anyone thinks I'm picking on the Communists. I really have nothing against them, I just couldn't think of anything better. If I every get to revising this story after I finish it, I'll really try to do some more research to vary the groups a little._

_And about the scene where Frank breaks into the hotel room. I really had no idea what I was talking about. I made up the whole idea and it probably would never work, but please, please don't try it anyway. I honestly tried doing some reasearch on fail-secure locks and their mechanisms but nothing really helped me so I had to make up my own method for Frank to get in without making it a fail-safe lock where Frank would cut the power of the whole hotel. Anyway, just to let you know, I've never attempted what Frank did, never heard about it being done and I would try it, not that I think any of you really would. _


	10. Life is a Highway

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long hiatus. School has been tough and I've been busy but I hope to have a few more updates at least this summer. Thank you all for being patient. As a bonus, I've made this chapter extra long. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9

Frank looked bleary-eyed at his phone that was ringing shrilly and vibrating fiercely against the glass coffee table. He sat up quickly his eyes shooting open as the laptop he hadn't realized was resting on his stomach was suddenly letting gravity take it to the floor. He grabbed the screen with his right hand and managed to grab its side with his left hand seconds before it slid completely off his knees. Wide awake now, he let his eyes run across the empty living room and the faint shadows of light beginning to stream through his window.

He turned his attention back to the phone that was still ringing persistently. "Agent—Agent Frank Hardy," he croaked trying to clear the dryness out of his throat.

"Did I wake you, Agent Hardy?" Frank's eyebrows shot up when he heard the voice.

"No, Sir."

His boss's voice was calm but Frank had a dreading feeling that Director Stephen Howard was not making a social call. "Good."

"Are you enjoying your vacation, Agent Hardy?" Frank froze. Something was off and at this moment, Frank didn't know how much his Director knew.

"It hasn't been as relaxing as I'd hoped." Frank tried his best to sound calm and assured, but he didn't know how much of it carried in his voice let alone across the cell towers.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Frank couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "I don't believe you ever said where you were going."

"Washington."

"State?"

"D.C., Sir."

"Well, that I believe."

Frank clenched the phone. "Sir?"

"You see, I got a rather perplexing phone call yesterday afternoon. A Director Robert Lennox, I believe."

Frank's blood ran cold. "Sir—"

"He called to ask what the FBI's interest was in a missing CIA agent. When I said I didn't know what he meant he explained. Do you have any idea how that made me look, Agent Hardy?"

"Sir, it wasn't our intention—"

"You better think long and hard how you want to explain your reasoning, Agent Hardy, because not only was I informed about a rogue investigation but from what I hear, you even brought a civilian along with you."

Frank thought quickly. He knew his director would not want to hear the details of the case, but Frank had to think quickly about how to make him believe that this was worth pursuing. "I apologize for undermining you, lying to you, Sir. This case was brought to my attention by a friend, the civilian you mentioned. One of my close friends, a CIA agent, has been missing and her agency doesn't seem to want to do anything about. There was not enough evidence to sanction an investigation. I took vacation to develop the case and not waste the agency's time—"

"Have you obtained any more evidence since your leave?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Enough for an investigation?"

Frank thought hard and swallowed. He knew protocol. "No, Sir."

A long pause followed. "I sympathize with your position, Agent Hardy. Now I ask that you sympathize with mine. I cannot legally sanction this investigation, and you know that. You've lied to me, you've used FBI resources for personal gain, and you've proved to the CIA that I do not have control over my Bureau. I trust your brother is with you?"

Frank didn't see any point to lying to him anymore. "Yes, Sir."

"Well then, by noon today both of your clearances will officially be revoked until you return back to headquarters where the consequences of your actions will be discussed."

Frank looked at his phone in shock. There was no way that he could return home. Frank honestly believed they had a chance to find Nancy and break-open this case. There was no way he was going to sit around while a bunch of his superiors determined his fate. "Sir, if I just had more time to gather the evidence."

"Agent Hardy, you lost that right when you two began your own investigation."

"Sir, this is serious. We honestly believe that a new terror cell is emerging. We need more time to find viable evidence."

"Agent Hardy, I cannot let you continue this investigation. When expenses and the time of my agents goes into an undeclared investigation, it's going to be my job that's threatened. You don't come back, I revoke your clearance. The longer you stay away, the worst it is for you. That's the best I can do."

Frank shook his head. His brother would have the option, Frank was going to be sure that he had the option, but Frank for one, was not going to give up on Nancy. Too much already didn't add up. Frank wasn't going home till the job was done.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I am not returning to headquarters, you have my word on that. I'm not stopping till I find that agent. I can get you the evidence you need, but I can't come home to do it."

"I suppose you speak for your brother as well?"

"He'll contact you if he speaks differently."

"Very well. I'm sorry, Agent Hardy. Good luck."

Frank closed his cell phone with resignation. This was bad. By noon today, their case was going to become ten times more difficult. Frank looked at his watch. _6:45_, he thought. _Joe is going to be pissed._

Frank grabbed both sides of his lap top and put it solidly on the glass coffee table. He then rubbed his eyes and his temples with the palms of his hands before resigning to get to his feet. His four hours of sleep suddenly came rushing to his head, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. He shook his head rapidly but gently as if thinking it would clear his lack of sleep, but to no avail.

In a slight daze, Frank walked to the closed bedroom door he shared with his brother. The room was much darker compared to the living room that was being provided stray beams from the morning sun. Joe had obviously drawn the blinds, making the atmosphere indistinguishable from night. Joe's figure, in fact, could barely be seen as the lump protruding from the flat bed if not for the fact that Joe seemed to have gotten hot and had pushed the comforter into a crumpled mess and at the verge of falling to the floor at the end of the bed.

For a moment, Frank stared longingly at his untouched bed and debated taking a short nap, but with the new time constraint, Frank knew that he couldn't allow himself that luxury. He continued his path to the bathroom as he looked blindly through his things, zipping and unzipping bags until he finally found a bottle of Advil. In attention of his headache to come, he poured three brown tablets into his hand from the white bottle, and downed them with water he took with his mouth tilted under the faucet. He closed the bottle and set it next to the sink as he walked back into the bedroom and tried to figure out the most efficient way to wake his brother.

He decided to make use of whatever stray light was currently present outside to help his case as he swiftly walked over and opened the blinds. Recognizing that this wouldn't be enough to keep his brother's half-asleep state from regressing, Frank turned on the lamp on the nightstand between the two beds, immediately blinking his eyes at the amount of light it produced. All of this was done without any sign of life from Joe.

"Joe," Frank called out towards the limp form. When no response came from his brother he repeated his brother's name and shook his shoulder gently. Joe finally responded by taking his nose and pushing it into the pillow as if to dig a hole and hide from the light. "Joe, you need to get up."

"NoIdon't," Joe mumbled into the pillow making his words sound jumbled together. "It'sstilldark."

"Not with the light on," Frank argued as he reached over and grabbed the pillow his brother's head was on with both hands and ripped it out from under him. He watched unfazed as his brother's head bounced up slightly from the mattress like a flat basketball before falling still. "Besides we have a problem." Giving into the fact that his brother wasn't going away and he had a way of making the simplest things sound so important, he sat up bleary eyed and waited for him to continue. Frank quickly gave his brother a run down of what their Director had said.

"We need to use the next few hours to take advantage of FBI resources anyway we can before we lose access."

"Damn," Joe answered, stretching out the vowel with a long yawn. Frank threw the pillow he's stolen at his brother's stomach. He grunted as the soft object hit.

"You get to wake up, Bess."

Joe's eyes went wide in a panic. "Oh no, I don't think so. Not with some protection in the least. She is so not a morning person."

"Ha, that's rich coming from you," Frank scoffed.

"What if she causes me bodily harm?" Joe asked.

Frank gave him a look of disbelief. "You'll survive. Bring a pillow if you want just go, we've got work to do."

Frank could hear Joe grumble as Frank walked out of the bedroom and went to retrieve his laptop from the coffee table. He sat down on the couch and opened the screen, staring blankly at it blankly. He'd spent most of the night trying to hack into the CIA database or locate some sort of weak point where he could simply find a back door entry into the computer system but he had no luck. Frank generally considered himself a pretty good hacker, but sophisticated systems like the CIA and FBI were beyond his expertise.

He slumped back against the seat of the couch and watched his brother stride across the room towards Bess's bedroom. Joe glared at Frank once before walking into the room. Frank smiled lightly and brought his eyes back down towards the table, catching the eye of his cell phone as he did. With a sudden idea he grabbed his phone and dialed the CIA's number.

After the receptionist answered and greeted him with their standard greeting Frank said, "Jackie Perdue, please. Tell her it's Frank Hardy."

A few moments past and Jackie came on the line. "Hello, Agent Hardy, didn't expect to be hearing from you so soon or so early." Frank marveled at how she managed to sound so awake and concerned so early in the morning.

Frank cleared his throat, attempting to pull off the same sort of alertness, but he doubted he managed it with any more accuracy. "Yes, sorry about that. I hate to keep putting you in this position but we could really use your help."

"I'm listening."

"I need to ask two things of you actually. Is there anyway you can get into Nancy's office?"

"I don't know if I'm comfortable sneaking around Nancy's things. What is it you're looking for?" Jackie answered hesitantly.

"I just want to know if her computer or any of her files were there for the Secretary's case. Even if you could just look through a window or something that would be good. I just want to know if that stuff is there." Frank waited hopefully as Jackie seemed to be thinking about this.

"Alright, I can manage that. What else?"

"I need you to track down the license plate of Nancy's rental car. It's CIA issue so I'm having problems locating it."

"Well, I can give you a little help. I know it's a tan Ford Explorer. It'll take a minute to try to get the license plate and year and stuff. Hold on, let me see if I can get any of that information for you now." Frank waited patiently as he listened to her type.

"Alright, I've got a hit." Jackie said a moment later. "You got paper?"

"Uh," Frank looked around the room frantically for a moment before he grabbed a partially used napkin sitting on the table from pizza last night and a nearby pen that the hotel had supplied. "Yeah, go ahead."

"JTC-2109. Virginia plates of course. It's a 2000, tan, Ford Explorer." Frank quickly copied the information down.

"Thank you, so much," Frank said when she'd finished. "I really appreciate you doing this."

"As I said before, I have a lot of respect for Nancy. I'd like to do whatever I can to help. I'll try to get back to you ASAP about the computer and stuff." Frank nodded and gave her his number before hanging up.

"Joe Hardy, I'm going to kill you!" Frank looked up at Bess's bedroom door in surprise. He watched as his brother came running out of Bess's room, a huge grin on his face as he ran into their bedroom, slamming the door. Bess ran out a few seconds later dressed in pajamas pants and a purple tank top that had dark stains all over it.

Bess ran to the door and began pounding on it loudly and furiously. "Joe, open this door you coward!"

Frank stood up confused and walked over to Bess. "What's going on?"

"_Your_ brother," she said stressing "your" like Frank was somehow to blame, "just threw a cup of water on me. _Cold_ water."

"Just to wake you up like Frank told me to," Joe yelled through the safety of the door.

Bess's angry eyes turned to Frank as he held his hands up in surrender. "I told him to wake you up. I didn't say how."

Bess gave Frank and the door one last glare before she turned around and angrily walked back into her room, slamming the door. Frank just rolled his eyes at his brother's antics as he headed back to the computer. A few minutes later the drama he'd just witnessed was completely forgotten. He typed furiously as he worked to pull up security cameras and traffic cameras that may have caught any license plates matching Nancy's.

Joe poked his head out about fifteen minutes later to make sure the cost was clear. Frank instantly felt the smell of Joe's soap fill the room as Joe came closer.

"What are you doing?"

"Jackie gave me a hit on Nancy's rental car. I'm trying to track it. See if we can figure out what direction she was heading but some of these low quality cameras are not giving me the resolution I need to match license plate numbers."

Joe rubbed his face tiredly as he stood up to grab his own computer. He returned to the couch with his own lap top in hand. "Okay, put me to work."

9999

After two hours of searching through traffic and outdoor bank surveillance cameras Joe had a new respect for all the technical "geeks" as he called them that the FBI hired. He never realized how much time and searching those guys went through in order to put all the information in a neat manila folder as just another part of background research for the case. Joe had no idea what to expect if they located the car. If they were lucky it might help them locate what direction she was headed, what condition she might be in, or even whether she was dead or alive. Joe shut his eyes and immediately pushed that image out of his head. _I can't think like that. Not yet._ Instead he glanced at his watch.

"It's 9:30," Joe voiced aloud looking at his brother.

Frank didn't look up.

"Frank."

"What?!" he snapped at his brother. Frank immediately looked guilty. "Sorry, Joe I was hoping to have a lead by now."

"No problem, but one of us needs to keep our 10am appointment with Joshua Cunningham."

Frank leaned back into the couch and sighed. "You should go. We need to do all the research we can before we lose access to the network."

Joe nodded as he set his computer on the class coffee table and headed to the bedroom to change. A silence filled the room as Frank looked wearily at his computer, trying to get the energy to continue the search. He glanced over at Bess who was still focused on her monitor. The brothers had given her access to the FBI site so that she could help them do research.

"Having any luck?" He asked as a feeble attempt to make conversation with her.

"Actually, you might want to take a look at this," she replied, still tapping on the keyboard. Frank stood up, excited at the prospect of a lead and came around the love seat where Bess was sitting Indian style with her computer in her lap.

"This is what I've been able to find. I'm not sure how to use this program, otherwise I would try and enhance the picture, but I think it looks like the license plate you gave us." Frank squinted as he looked at the hazy black and white still from a video camera. It looked as if the car was leaving an underground garage and about to head into the night time city streets because the exit was very dark compared to the artificial lighting from the garage. It could also been seen that the car was definitely a lighter shade of grey, meaning it could very well be tan. It was definitely a Ford Explorer.

"Do you mind if I try to enhance the plate?" Frank asked.

"Go right ahead, I could use a stretch," she said standing up with her laptop in both hands as she passed it over to Frank who quickly took the spot that Bess had unknowingly warmed. Bess in turn, took Frank's spot behind the couch and watched over his shoulder as he worked. He used a variety of tools to select the section in the picture that made up the license plate and zoom in. He then worked on trying to straighten out the resolution by calibrating the selection at different pixels. It took some fiddling but it soon revealed the complete license plate.

"Bess, you did it!" Frank said with a grin.

"Gotta hit?" Joe asked walking over in a fresh pair of khaki pants and an un-tucked, white polo shirt.

"Yes, we just need to locate the time and date and hopefully we can track where it went."

"Alright, well I'm going to the hospital. I'll let you know if I find anything of interest."

"Okay, and we'll call you if we get a lead. Either way, meet back here at noon so we can regroup," Frank said.

"Will do, later." With that Joe grabbed the room key and the key to their rental car and left.

"Do you know where this was taken?" Frank asked Bess as soon as Joe was gone.

"Here, actually. In the underground garage." Frank nodded as he typed, trying to get the time and date. Frank let the video run a couple times as he tried to get the time and date to appear. Bess watched as the front of Nancy's car appeared at the camera. There was a pause and then the barrier out of the garage lifted and the window was in the process of being closed as Nancy drove up the hill, to the road, and out of sight. Her car was soon replaced by a black sedan that went through the same process.

"Got it," Frank cried and Bess watched as the time and date stamp appeared in the lower left hand corner.

"May 1st, 9:23pm," Bess read.

"That was Monday." Frank let it rewound and played the video a few more times. "I can't be sure that's even Nancy at the wheel."

"We can't clean up the window shot?"

Frank shook his head. "Our tech guys would have no problem, but this is outta my league." Frank played the video a couple more times. "Okay, when she leaves she goes right." Frank stood up and handed Bess her computer. "Do what you can to try and track down nearby traffic cams to get her route."

"What are you going to do?" Bess asked as he grabbed for one of the room keys and headed for the door.

"I'm going to get a map from the gift store so we can plot her route and figure out where she may have gone." Bess nodded as she settled into the love seat once again as Frank closed the door.

9999

Joe pulled into the parking lot of Washington Hospital, several parking lots away from the main entrance. He glanced at his watch to find that it was quarter after ten. He slammed the car door as if it was to blame for his inability to find a decent parking space as he took long strides towards the hospital doors. He entered the waiting room of the ER and searched for some source that would tell him how to get to the morgue.

A set of four elevators in the middle of the hospital had a black plastic case with glowing names of doctors according to specialty listed alphabetically along with the floor number. It did not take long for Joe to note that many of the pathologists' bases of operation were in the basement, where Joe assumed the morgue must be located. He took the first available elevator that responded to his pressing of the down button and pushed the button for "B" upon entering.

The elevator was surprisingly clean for being what looked to be stainless steal walls. The floor consisted of white ceramic tile and was made large enough to fit a gurney comfortably. Needless to say, that Joe felt like he was almost wasting an elevator since it was only him in such a large space.

Joe felt the elevator slow down as it fell past the exit door only to rise slightly again. The numbers above the door finally registered that he was on level "B". As the doors opened, an automated woman's voice came on saying, "Basement level." Joe stepped out and was immediately greeted by a tall man dressed in jeans and a simple black polo shirt. From what Joe could remember of Rhonda's picture in the paper, it seemed like he had the same brown hair. His facial features were smooth, making his skin look flawless. But when he looked over at Joe, a light purplish color could be seen under his bright blue eyes.

"Mr. Cunningham?" The man nodded. "Hi, I'm Joe Hardy, we spoke on the phone. I'm so sorry for being late."

"It's alright and please, call me Josh." Josh spoke with a friendly air despite the circumstances.

"I really am sorry for your sister's death," Joe said as the two of them walked down the hall.

"Thank you, it really did come as a shock," Josh replied shaking his head in disbelief.

"I hate to ask you these kinds of questions, but they could be important." Joe apologized. Josh looked slightly confused but nodded anyway. "Had your sister been acting oddly at all lately? Things like, not showing up to things when she was supposed to, showing up late for work, being moody or secretive?"

"Of course not. She was happy. She loved working at the hospital," Josh replied. Then a small smile appeared on his face. "She never complained, except for what every nurse complains about. The low pay and long hours, but even then, I don't think she minded all that much." Josh frowned. "You're not asking me this because of the Secretary—"

"I'm not trying to imply anything," Joe assured. "Like I said, I have to cover all angles." Josh nodded but looked unhappy at the reply. Joe inwardly sighed, trying to figure out how much he should reveal, but it was obvious Joe needed his trust so it was important that he tell him the full reason why he was here.

"Josh, I'm not trying to incriminate your sister. It's just that we have reason to believe that your sister's death maybe connected with a friend of ours who's missing. We believe someone may have murdered your sister and those same people, we believe, took our friend." Joe looked over at Josh as he tried to take this in.

Josh shook his head. "I don't understand what you're saying. I mean no, I don't think Rhonda killed herself, but I just figured if she was murdered, it was because someone was angry about the Secretary's death. Are you telling me there's more to it than that?"

Joe cursed himself for not being more discrete. He should have never mentioned Nancy. It would have been better if Josh had just been left under the impression that he was investigating his sister's murder. "Maybe, but we're not quite sure. I'm really sorry, but I can't divulge any more information than that."

"Okay," Josh answered hesitantly. Joe glance at the man feeling slightly guilty for not really helping to answer any of his questions. They stayed silent for a moment as Josh reached the reception area and requested his sister's file. The pathologist directed them to a nearby room so that they could look over the files.

"Josh, can you tell me why you don't think your sister killed herself?" Joe asked as he opened the file and looked right into the closed eyes and pale face of Rhonda Cunningham.

"Even after the Secretary's death, getting fired, and all the media, Rhonda wasn't depressed or anything. She openly talked to me and I'm sure some of her friends about it too. I mean, she felt horrible yes, but she wasn't depressed."

Joe tried not to look at Josh with disbelief as he figured out the best way to phrase his next question. "I'm sorry, Josh, I'm not trying to doubt you, but your sister accidentally killed a member of the Cabinet, that was publicized, and potentially ruined her career in medicine. She would most likely be facing malpractice suits if she was still alive. Are you really telling me she wasn't depressed?"

Josh glared at Joe. "Rhonda wasn't that kind of person. She didn't believe in using suicide to escape her problems. For everything that happened, she was handling it as well as could be expected."

"I'm sorry," Joe told him, slightly distracted as he thumbed through the papers. Most of the medical jargon went right over his head but he paused on one handwritten page. "It says here that your sister over dosed on pentobarbital," Joe said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, sleeping pills," Josh explained.

"Was your sister having any problems sleeping?"

"Not that she ever told me."

Joe looked at the cause of death in dismay. "On average, how many hours a week would you say your sister worked at the hospital?"

"It was practically her life," Josh said with a little laugh. "Probably around 80 hours. Why?"

"It just doesn't fit that a nurse who works those kind of hours would need any sleeping medication, especially if she didn't mention to you any problems sleeping." Joe paused thoughtfully. "Did she ever look overly tired; like she hadn't been getting much sleep?"

"She looked tired sure. I mean I just told you how many hours she works, but it never impeded on her ability to function. If she wasn't sleeping at night it would have been more obvious, right?" Josh said looking at Joe for confirmation.

"Yeah, you probably would have known," Joe affirmed feeling unsettled. He thumbed through the papers one more time, noting nothing of interest before putting them back into the folder.

"Is that it?" Josh asked, looking at Joe in surprise.

"Actually, no." Joe looked down at his hands for a moment, fidgeting for a moment before looking back at Josh. He'd never done this kind of request before and he was weary about doing it now, but under the circumstances it would make him feel better if he did it anyway. He didn't know to what extent he could trust the written report. "I was hoping you would allow me to look at your sister's body."

9999

Forty-five minutes later Frank and Bess sat staring at what they had completed of their map. Taped to the dining room wall was a zoomed in road map of Washington D.C. and Maryland. A pink highlighter tracked Nancy's path from the hotel to an intersection about four miles northeast. The pink line disappeared for awhile because they were unsure of what roads she'd taken, but the vehicle suddenly appeared again about thirty miles northeast in Maryland. Traffic cams had caught the vehicle in West Laurel where it was seen going one direction and then back tracked before it took the left hand turn back onto 198. Frank and Bess assumed it was a stop for gas. Unfortunately, after that, they could find no trace of the vehicle.

"She had to have stuck to the main roads," Frank said standing about three feet away from the map as analyzed the roads. "The traffic cams in many of the little towns would have picked up the vehicle if she had gone off the main roads."

"Frank, look at this map. She could have gone anywhere!" Bess said with exasperation. "Keeping with our assumption that she stopped for gas, she would be good to go for miles."

"But she would have had to stop eventually, again. The fact that we can't pick up the car again must mean—"

"Okay, say she stopped somewhere randomly on a major road. It could have been at any point in time; hundreds of miles in any direction from West Laurel. There's no way we can search all this area for her car." Frank could tell that Bess wanted to give up the search for the car, but Frank couldn't pull himself away from this lead. There had to be something salvageable that would help tell them where Nancy was.

"Look, I think we can safely say that she was heading north," Frank said thoughtfully as he looked over the map..

"Okay, say she was heading north," Bess relented. "But for the majority of the trip she was also heading northeast. She threw us off when she appeared in West Laurel. She started heading northwest but her presence in West Laurel means she can also be heading west. We can't be sure now."

"There has to be something in a traffic cam, an accident report, something." Frank left his view of the map as he went back to the dining room table and began searching for vehicles that may have been found in Burtonsville, Spencerville, Rocky Gorge, Ashton, Fulton, and any other major city that she could have stopped within the distance of a full tank of gas. Frank tapped his finger persistently against the side of his lap-top as he waited for the computer to finish searching.

"There!" Frank cried out, for a moment ecstatic about finding something concrete. Then as he read on his happiness began to fade.

"What is it?" Bess asked, watching his face with concern.

Frank ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Her car. It was found yesterday in the woods along twenty-nine near the Rocky Gorge reservoir."

9999

Joe looked down at Rhonda Cunningham's pale and naked body, feeling quite uncomfortable. A v-shaped scar could be seen just above her breast before a long line came down her stomach to connect with the point on the v to form a "Y." Joe had seen many dead bodies in his years as an amateur detective and as an agent, but he'd never had to do an examination. He felt unsure of himself, not really having any idea where to begin or what to look for, but he asked Dr. McKaine, the on-call pathologist, for a pair of latex gloves.

"Did you do the autopsy?" he asked the woman as she turned to walk out.

"No," she answered reaching over to the file sitting on one of the sterile instrument trays. "According to this it was Dr. Eric Payton." Joe nodded his thanks as he looked down at his unsteady gloved hands. He glanced over at Josh, who was looking at Rhonda with sadness in his eyes.

Joe turned back to Rhonda and focused on her face. He thought about reaching out to touch it but he pulled back for a moment and swallowed nervously before reaching for her eyelids to exam them. Her eyes were a beautiful blue, slightly darker than the sky, but they were dull and lacked the normal shine that life brought them. He let the eyelids close as he squeezed his own eyes shut for a moment and then opened them, trying to move on.

He looked over her forehead, scalp, and cheeks. He paused for a moment when he looked at either side of her cheeks. A faint blue bruising was apparent on either side of her mouth. He ran his fingers across the bruises lightly before reaching across and placing his fingers on the two spots. He watched amazed as when he applied a slight pressure, her jaw opened.

"Did you find something?" Josh asked, watching Joe curiously.

"Yes, these bruises, have you seen them before?" Joe asked as he removed his fingers from the spots to allow Josh to observe them.

"No, I don't believe so. What do they mean?" Josh looked back and forth between his sister and Joe, waiting for an answer.

"Could be nothing, but they're small enough to be fingerprints. They're in a perfect location that would force the jaw open," Joe explained, leaving the full extent of what he was getting at unsaid.

"They wouldn't be there if she took the pills on her own, right?" Josh said assuming the answer and beginning to look angry.

"We can't jump to conclusions yet," Joe said, feeling a little more confident after locating the bruises, but becoming slightly frustrated that he couldn't be sure that he was interpreting everything correctly. Would it be possible that it was somehow caused by something else? Since the bruising was so faint, it wasn't positive that it meant that it was recent bruising. An even more unsettling feeling came about in the fact that it was left out of the autopsy, which either meant someone left it out on purpose, or it wasn't significant to the cause of death. Joe didn't think that any pathologist would have overlooked it, especially if Joe had been able to find it with no training at all.

Joe continued looking over the body, using his hands to gently feel for bumps or masses of any size. He paused at her wrists, once again noticing some blue and purple bruising. Darker bruising was present on the sides of both wrists with some faint bruising on top. Joe could easily visualize the most likely cause for this as he closed his hand around the right wrist and tried to reach across the table to the other. His arms didn't quite reach. Joe released his grip around Rhonda's wrists and moved to examine the stomach carefully. Once again he gently moved his hands across her stomach, but aside from the scar from the autopsy, there was no sign of any bruising.

"What is it?" Josh asked, noting Joe's decisive movements and careful searching.

"There's bruising on her wrists," Joe informed him. He pulled away and looked up at Josh with careful eyes. "It's darker on the sides than here," Joe said gesturing to the skin above the joints that connected the arm to the hand. "A grip on the wrist," Joe grabbed Rhonda's limp wrist in his gloved hand like he did before, "would cause harsh bruising on either side with slightly less bruising on the top of the wrist, forcing the wrist down.

"Now, I can't reach the other wrist just standing here, a bigger person might be able to, but there is nothing present on her stomach to indicate any weight had been placed there." Joe gave Josh his full attention and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't think your sister killed herself."

Josh looked at Joe with disbelief. "You think that someone held my sister down and forced pills down her throat and killed her?" Joe only nodded. "Who would do such a thing? Why was none of this reported in the autopsy? Why didn't the pathologist come to this conclusion?"

"Calm down, Josh," Joe urged. "I don't know the answer to any of those questions, but I'm going to do the best I can to figure it out." Joe paused not knowing how Josh would take what he was about to say next. "Josh, I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say. You need to go home, pack your stuff, and get out of Virginia. Tell people you need some time to get over your sister's death, but don't tell anyone where you're going."

"What? Why would I do that?" Josh demanded.

"Whatever is going on here is much bigger than your sister's murder. Whoever these people are that your sister joined up with or accidentally stumbled across are dangerous people. They don't want to be found and they don't want anyone messing up their plans. If they find out that you have brought me back to the morgue, you're going to be in trouble. It's best that you hide for awhile."

Joe watched as Josh's fists became balls at his sides and his face reddened slightly as he spoke. "I'm not going anywhere. If you thought I was going to be in danger why'd you ask me to bring you here? Isn't it your job to keep the public safe? And who are these people you're talking about? You're making it sound like a giant conspiracy."

"I brought you here because I needed to see the body. I didn't know what I'd find but it wasn't my intention to get you into any trouble. If I could have seen the body without your permission I would have, but the point is, if any of these people think that you believe your sister was murdered you're going to need to go into hiding," Joe said sternly.

Josh ran a frustrated hand through his hair in a way that reminded Joe of his brother before he spoke again. "I guess I could go to—" Josh started hesitantly.

"Don't tell me," Joe interrupted. "It's safer for you if I don't know." Josh looked at Joe oddly but Joe didn't seem willing to divulge anymore information. Joe finished his scan of Rhonda, noting nothing more than defensive marks on her fingernails that confirmed Joe's suspicion that Rhonda had been held down and she had struggled. After copying the pathology report and being reassured by Josh that he would get away from awhile, Joe got into the rental car.

Joe buckled his seat belt and started the car, taking only seconds to back out of his parking space and head to the street. He glanced at the clock on the radio and was surprised to find that it was a quarter after noon. Realizing that he was late meeting his brother he grabbed his phone and opened it with his right hand while keeping his left hand on the steering wheel. He struggled to find the number two on his key pad and keep his eyes on the road, but once he did he held the button down and waited as the phone automatically changed pitch for the programmed number.

"Where are you?" Frank demanded as soon as the call patched through.

"You know personalized greetings have gone downhill since caller ID was invented," Joe answered with more sarcasm than humor. Joe heard his brother groan as he repeated his first question again. "I'm on my way back from the hospital and boy do I got news for you."

"Us too, what's your ETA?"

Joe looked around as he came to a stop for a light to get his bearings. "About five minutes."

"Okay pick us up at the front of the hotel. We'll be waiting for you outside."

"Where are we going?" Joe asked confused.

"We found Nancy's car and got in touch with the local police. Forensics is looking over it now. We're going to retrace her steps."

"What about the psychiatrist?"

Frank paused for a moment to think about this. "How about you and Bess look into that and I'll take the car and head to Rocky Gorge."

"How are we supposed to get around?" Joe asked incredulously.

"Cab. Look it's a lot cheaper for you guys to take a cab than it would be for me."

"You sure you're alright heading out there alone?" Joe's tone was neither fatherly nor condescending, but rather full of concern at the reality of what finding Nancy's car might mean.

"Yeah, besides it's probably best if Bess wasn't here for this. Just-Just in case." Joe swallowed hard.

"I'll see you in a few."


	11. When Pigs Fly

A/N: Okay everyone, here it is, the next installment. I think you guys are going to have a heart attack at the end of this one. I think it's well worth the wait, but I can wait to hear what you all think. Once again, cyber cookies must be given out to all my awesome reviewers. I'll try to get out the next installment as soon as I can. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 10

Frank looked around briefly at the numerous trees that whizzed by as he drove along towards West Laurel. It would have been wonderful to enjoy the scenery, because it was indeed beautiful. He could pick out the needle-like growths from the pine trees, the arc-like shapes that made up the leaves of oak trees, as well as numerous other nameless trees that occupied either side of the highway. Everything was green, the sky was blue, and the temperature a nice constant eighty degrees. Frank couldn't have asked for a better day for a drive through country—if only that was all it was.

Frank watched blankly as another green and white mile marker passed by as he waited for his exit number. He really didn't know what to expect during this drive, but he did know that the finding Nancy's car could make or break their investigation. The sergeant Frank had talked to on the phone had not been very specific about anything but to say that the car had been in bad shape. The sergeant had said nothing about a body, which was good one way and bad another. If the car was in half the condition Frank was picturing, the idea of Nancy simply walking away from the accident unharmed was unlikely.

_Stop thinking like that,_ he chided himself. Frank's heart tightened and sent a wave of tension through his body. For a moment, he couldn't figure out whether or not he was breathing, but before he could fix that he took a quick breath only to find himself coughing at the sudden rush of air. It took a few seconds to get his breathing under control but he managed to recover in just enough time to see his exit number less than fifty feet away. He switched from the left lane to the right in one harsh jerk and without looking into his mirrors. A sudden and persistent horn blared from behind him as a result of his action and he looked in his rearview mirror and then out his side window as he took the right exit to see a red Lexus whiz past him; the driver giving him the finger as he passed.

Frank's hands tightened on the wheel as he tried to figure out what had just transpired. It wasn't normal for Frank to have that kind of reaction or to act so dangerously in traffic. Nancy, him and Joe had been in danger many times and he'd never freaked out this way, but he also knew that the days of being a simple private detective were over. This was a world where criminals didn't take the time to gloat about their master plans, and it wasn't simply about just scaring those who investigated them off the trail. These people rather than sending trivial threatening notes simply killed you. Money and power were too much to risk and often there was no hesitation at doing whatever it took to maintain or gain it.

Frank sighed as he pulled himself from his thoughts and focused on finding Nancy rather than worrying about her. He looked around as he approached a street light, taking in the atmosphere of a small highway town. Three gas stations were well within a mile radius, and two of them were next to each other on the left side of the intersection he just stopped at. One was a Shell station, proudly brandishing the yellow shell outlined in red. Beside it was an Exxon station whose prices were set to match its competitor.

He thought hard about the image of the street light and what the surrounding landmarks had been on the traffic cam that had caught Nancy's car, and knew that she hadn't gone to either of these stations. Even to Frank, the reasons for her to pass up these gas stations were obvious. He had learned a long time ago that the first gas stations located immediately off the exit ramp were the most expensive so that gas companies could take advantage of those people most desperate to refuel.

He approached the next light, passing a Wendy's on the left and a Chevrolet dealership on the right. He got into the left lane at the light and turned left into the Sunoco, which sure enough, was advertising at a price three cents less than their competitors. Rather than going straight inside he pulled up to the right of a pump and stepped out. After opening the gas compartment and removing the cap, he removed a credit card from his wallet, and put it into the slot before removing it quickly. He mechanically selected the "87 octane" before picking up the handle and inserting the gas nozzle into his car. Mainly by muscle memory, he clenched his hands around the handle as his pointer finger moved to put the automatic fill tab in place. Assured that it wasn't going to move he set the handle down and headed inside the snack shop while his car was filling.

He entered the store just as an older white man with gray stubble on his chin was paying for a pack of cigarettes. A straw cowboy hat rested on his head. Frank headed down the aisle of chips and nuts to the drinks located in the fridge at the back of the store. He selected a bottle of water randomly from the shelf before making his way back to the register as the man with the straw cowboy hat walked out the door.

The man working the register looked to be of Indian decent. His skin was darker than the normal California tan and his hair was jet black at a semi-long length. A thick black beard fell about two inches below his chin. He wore a simple white polo shirt and a watch with a leather strap around his left wrist.

"$1.05," the man read off the screen after scanning the barcode on the water with a slight accent.

Frank reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He reached into one of the plastic protectors and held out a picture to him. "Have you seen this girl?" It was a slightly younger picture of Nancy, taken after one of their cases when they were still amateur detectives but it still looked a lot like her.

"No," he answered shaking his head. "We see lots of people here," he answered dismissively. "Were you working here on Monday, May 1st?"

"No, I work afternoons. $1.05 please," the man said with obvious impatience.

Frank reached into his other back pocket and pulled out his badge. "Then I'm going to need to see your surveillance tapes from that night, _please_," he said emphasizing the please with a stern stare.

The cashier gave in reluctantly. "CJ is in da back. He will help you." Frank pulled out the exact change for his water and grabbed it off the counter as he turned towards the back of the store. With little hesitation, he walked through a red door marked with a black plaque and white lettering that read "Employees Only."

A thin man, who looked to be in his mid-thirties and of the same ethnicity as the cashier, stood up surprised by the intrusion. His hair too, was black and his eyes brown, but his face was clean-shaven, unlike the cashier's. He wore a red polo shirt that blatantly portrayed Marlboro's emblem on the left breast pocket. A pair of khaki pants completed the outfit.

"I'm Agent Frank Hardy," he said pulling out his badge once more. "I need to see your surveillance tapes for the evening of May 1st."

"One moment," he answered, looking slightly nervous. He reached into one of the drawers of a very plain looking desk and pulled out a ring of keys. With that he walked past Frank and headed a little farther into the back room till he reached a closet directly across from the bathroom. The keys jingled and clapped together as he searched for the correct one. After the fourth try, the door was open and CJ reached for a light switch on the right side of the wall as he walked in. Frank glanced inside curiously.

It was a simple room made out of cement blocks that had been painted white. The floor was tiled with white vinyl that clearly showed how often it was not swept. Five gray plastic storage units had been assembled; two on either side of the wall and one against the back wall. Each unit had four shelves. To Frank's surprise, instead of the shelves being piled with VHS tapes like he'd expected, they were covered with numerous piles of plastic DVD cases, all labeled with the full date and "Day" or "Night." From what Frank could tell, the room easily held DVD's from January of the current year.

"You look for night of the 1st?" CJ asked as he looked around the May section of the shelves.

"That depends, how many hours are on each disk?"

"Twelve hours. One record midnight to noon and other record noon to midnight." Frank studied the stacks of May DVD's figuring that the most helpful DVD would probably be the one with the recorded hours from noon to midnight.

"Do you need a copy of this?" Frank asked after CJ handed him the DVD he wanted. He seemed to think this over for a moment before shrugging.

"Yes, one moment please," he said as he took the DVD back. Frank watched as he placed the disk into one DVD player with wires that hooked up to another DVD player. He pushed the eject button to the other player and pulled what Frank assumed was a blank disk from a nearby cardboard box. He pushed a few buttons and then seemed to stand there waiting. CJ didn't look up at Frank at all as a gentle hum filled the room to signal the working DVD systems. Frank stood there waiting somewhat impatiently with his back partially against one of the plastic shelves. Five minutes later, the humming slowed till it finally stopped.

CJ hit the eject button for the DVD player with the copy in it. He put it into the black case he'd set on top of the corresponding DVD player and extended it towards Frank.

"Thank you," Frank said simply before turning around and heading out the door. He entered the store where only a couple of customers were roaming around and nodded towards the cashier as he left. The cashier did not acknowledge him. Frank shrugged it off, not really caring about his cold shoulder as he quickly put the gas nozzle back into its resting place and capped the gas cap. Within a half a second, he'd placed the DVD onto the passenger seat and headed off back onto the highway towards Rocky Gorge.

10101010

A grim silence fell over Joe and Bess as they rode to Washington Medical Services. The process of exchanging cars had been brief as was Joe's explanation to Bess of what was going on. For Bess, the silence was an anger shield that she was using against Joe for purposefully excluding her. She was not oblivious to the worried glances that had passed between the brothers as Joe handed his brothers the keys to their rental car. Joe had simply wished Frank good luck. When Bess had asked where Frank was going, he simply explained that he was investigating a lead with Nancy car. Joe easily felt the overbearing pressure, but he believed he could take on the burden of Bess's silence if he could spare her the possibility of even more worry until they knew more. Aside from that, Joe wasn't comfortable about speaking in front of anyone they didn't know about their current case for obvious reasons.

As soon as their cab pulled up to the twelve story gray medical building, Bess climbed out and slammed the door behind her. Joe sighed and handed their driver some money before stepping out to follow her. Their silence continued as they went to the light up board with all the doctor's names and specialties to locate Dr. Gao's office. It wasn't till the elevator when they could be assured of some privacy that Bess spoke.

"I don't like being left out," Bess began pointedly. "I'm not a child."

"We're not leaving you out," Joe argued back, feeling slightly guilty at lying.

"You're certainly not telling me everything." Joe avoided Bess's eyes and she knew she was right. "Look, I know that Nancy's car was found at Rocky Gorge and that's most likely where Frank went. What I don't know is why you're making such a big deal out of it." Joe looked at Bess slightly surprised that she knew as much as she did. "Frank and I were _both_ working on the map, remember? He didn't see the need to keep secrets from me."

Joe momentarily thought of the irony of her statement before answering her apologetically. "You're right, he went to Rocky Gorge, but I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you'd be even more upset. I mean none of us know what this means, but Bess, this could be the end of our case."

Bess's face looked slightly shocked as if she hadn't thought about it before changing to a sort of sad determination. "Well, even if she—If we couldn't, I mean it wouldn't be over. The case wouldn't be over." Bess's voice broke as she spoke; not even being able to get out the idea that Nancy might be dead. "We would have to find answers; we'd have to find them." Joe nodded cheerlessly. He moved over and wrapped his arms around Bess just moments before the elevator came to a stop and opened on their floor.

They pulled apart as several people waiting for the elevator stood impatiently to see if they would be exiting. Joe placed a hand gently on Bess's lower back and coaxed her out of the elevator and onto the floor. They walked down the hallway that was covered in single-stemmed nameless flowers from ceiling to floor. It reminded Bess of something out of the Matrix; as if the flowers were in motion and moving up and down on conveyer belts at various intervals.

They passed several doors to their left and right before they came to a large glass door with a wooden boarder. A plaque was located on the left side of the entry-way that announced this was indeed where Dr. Gao practiced. Without further hesitation Joe and Bess walked in and strode to the window. From where he stood, Joe could see at least two women working on computers as another one seemed to be looking through color-coated manila folders. Another woman sat at the desk going through some sort of paperwork, but looked up expectantly as Joe approached.

"May I help you?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, I need to speak with Dr. Gao," Joe answered.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No, it's not for personal treatment," Joe responded as he pulled out his badge. She looked at the badge curiously and with uncertainty.

"He's in with a patient right now."

"For how much longer?"

"Another ten minutes."

"We'll see him them, if you please." With that Joe strode to one of the large red-clothed seats the filled the room. Bess followed suit.

"There's no one here," Bess whispered to Joe as she glanced around. Aside from the empty chairs and a few abstract paintings, the room was indeed empty.

Joe glanced at his watch. "It's just past one. Maybe this is his lunch time." Bess leaned back in her seat accepting his answer. Not a word passed between them as they waited for Dr. Gao to finish up with his patient.

Just as the secretary promised, the door to Dr. Gao's office opened ten minutes later and a young blond haired man stepped out. Joe watched the secretary he'd talked to walk up to Dr. Gao as the patient walked to the window and another woman proceeded to check him out. Joe couldn't hear what she was saying but she gestured in their direction causing Dr. Gao to look their way. She continued talking and he gave her a slight nod before walking towards them. Joe stood up to greet him.

William Gao was a tall man, he stood at least four or five inches above Joe's height of 5'11". He had dark black hair that sat at a long length on top of head. His dark brown eyes were given half the space to shine as they hid beneath perfectly sculpted eye-lids. Instead of a white coat, he wore a comfortable white dress shirt opened loosely around the collar and khaki pants.

"Good afternoon, Mr.—"

"Hardy, Joe Hardy. And this," he said gesturing to Bess who stood up, "is Bess Marvin."

"Pleasure to meet you two. Please come into my office and I'll see what I can do to help you." Dr. Gao turned around and walked back into his office. He stood next to the door and waited until they were both in before closing it. Bess glanced around the office noting how spacious it was. Books on bookshelves still lined much of the walls, but a good size fish tank took up one side of the wall. She noticed how there seemed to be at least ten fish in the tank, a few of which she could identify as gold fish, but the rest were unfamiliar to her.

In the right side corner, she could spot a desk facing into the room and next to one of the very large windows. The desk was almost completely barren save a couple of frames that Bess couldn't see the photos of. Joe meanwhile took a seat on one of the couches that Dr. Gao offered. Two full length couches rested facing each other. The only thing separating the two couches was a circular oriental rug that brought much color to the drab light blue carpeting. Bess guessed that when the sun began to set in the evenings, the light coming through the two large windows would bring the colors of the rug to its full potential.

Bess pulled herself from her examination of the room and took a seat next to Joe of the couch. "So, what service may I be to the FBI?"

"We'd like some information about a patient," Joe began.

"Agent Hardy, you know of course I can't divulge that kind of information."

"I am aware of that, but it's really important that you help us out in any way you can," Joe said with a hopeful look in his eyes. The look did not go unnoticed by the doctor.

"What has happened to bring you to my office?"

"A new patient of yours, Nancy Drew, has gone missing." Joe studied the man's face to gauge whether or not this seemed possible. Dr. Gao frowned, but other than that remained impassive.

"What is it that you would like to know?"

"How many sessions did you have with her?" Joe asked.

"Two," Dr. Gao answered.

"When?"

"The most recent one was two weeks ago, on Wednesday. The other one was the Monday before hand."

"You didn't seem surprised when I told you that Nancy was missing," Joe said hesitantly, not knowing what kind of answer he'd get to his question.

Dr. Gao sighed. "Agent Drew was not very open in her sessions with me. She was hostile towards the idea of seeing a psychiatrist. It wasn't really a surprise that she stopped coming aside from the fact that I knew she'd be fired if she didn't. But that alone I can understand probably wasn't enough for her to keep coming. I really can't say anymore than that."

"Did she seem anxious or depressed when she came to see you?"

Dr. Gao shook his head. "I don't believe she's depressed, but there was one time when she came to see me, that Wednesday, I believe; she seemed not anxious, but impatient, like she had somewhere else to be."

"She didn't say what?"

"No." Joe looked down at oriental carpet trying to take this in. "I suppose there's no way to know what you guys talked about?" Joe asked glancing up at the doctor.

"Not without her permission," he responded. "I wish I could be more help."

"Thank you, Dr. Gao for your time," Joe said standing. Bess stood too as Joe reached out to shake Dr. Gao's hand. Dr. Gao followed suit returning Joe's handshake before moving to Bess.

"Tell me, Agent Hardy," Dr. Gao's voice made Joe pause moments before he was about to make his way to the door. "I am curious as to why the FBI is interested in a CIA agent."

Joe turned and looked at Dr. Gao's intense gaze. Joe could feel himself, his actions, being analyzed. "She's an old friend of ours. We're just worried about her," Joe answered simply.

"You don't think she went missing voluntarily," Dr. Gao observed.

"You do?" Bess spoke up. Dr. Gao glanced at her briefly. Honestly, the idea had occurred to Joe only briefly before he'd immediately dismissed them. Nancy wouldn't have worried Bess, risk losing her job or dropped contact with everyone just to complete an investigation.

"I don't think it's implausible," Dr. Gao answered seriously. Bess's eyes narrowed as she stared incredulously at the doctor. She looked like she was going to argue but Dr. Gao put a hand up. "I can't tell you why it might be possible, but I just think you should keep it in mind."

Bess gave Dr. Gao one final angry stare before making her way to the door. Joe gave Dr. Gao an apologetic thanks before following Bess out the door. He caught up with Bess again at the elevators.

"How dare he say those things about Nancy!" Bess squealed as Joe reached over and hit the down button for the elevator. "She would never cause us all this worry just because she was working on a case. Just because she didn't want to be there with him, he thinks that she's some reckless agent looking for some glory on a case!" Bess looked over at Joe waiting for him to agree with her, but instead he looked rather uncomfortable. "Joe?"

"It may not be so implausible, Bess," Joe spoke slowly.

Bess glared at Joe in shock. "What is that supposed to mean?"

The elevator doors dinged open and Joe stepped in. He pushed the button for the first floor and waited till the doors closed before speaking again. "Nancy's missing laptop, toiletries, the case files, a lack of a—" Joe swallowed, "no proof that something has happened to Nancy. It actually fits, Bess."

"What about her car? What about the fact she hasn't talked to me. What about the fact she's losing her job or that she can't be found anywhere?" Bess argued. She couldn't believe that Joe thought Nancy would really put them through this much worry and grief for a case she wanted to take on alone.

"I don't know, Bess. Maybe it's not simply about just trying to solve the case. It could be more than that. I'm just saying that Dr. Gao could be right," Joe said tiredly. "Hopefully, we'll know more when Frank is done looking at Nancy's car."

10101010

Frank's drive along the country portion of 29 towards Rocky Gorge was more than scenic. The trees he'd seen on his drive to West Laurel were still prevalent, but they were now located on either side of metal guardrails that sloped down steep ravines. Every now and then a break in the tall trees would reveal the green topped hills illuminated in heaping portions of sunlight with only an occasional shaded cloud. Small neighborhoods, towns, and even some houses spotted along the country side could be seen if Frank gave the time to enjoy it. Frank however, felt nervous, because as he continued his drive he noticed how the presence of trees began to be scarcer as jagged boulders took their place. If Nancy had gone off the road anywhere close to Rocky Gorge reservoir, Frank knew the chances of surviving that kind of crash would be slim.

A few minutes later he found himself crossing a concrete bridge overlooking a large gorge. Its walls were made up of smooth rock, which Frank figured had occurred due to the flow of the river down in the gorge. He guessed looking down, that he was about 1,000 feet from the water's surface. Looking up towards the right and over the protective guardrail and the concrete wall he could see the shape of a fairly large dam. He could only make out part of a large building located on the side of the gorge he had just come from. Down river, he could see a closer view of those towns that had taken settlement along or near the river. Another moment passed and he was back on the road, but this time on the opposite side of the gorge.

He knew he should be coming close to the town of Rocky Gorge where he was going to meet the sergeant he'd spoke to on the phone about Nancy's car. Ten minutes later he was pulling in front of the local police station. He stepped inside to the small station and was instantly greeted with the sounds of ringing phones, voices of people talking and walking around from cubicle to cubicle with manila folders. Three doors stood next to each other to form the back left corner. He couldn't read the name plates on the door, but he figured one of them was the one he wanted, but before he could make his way back there through the maze of cubicles, he was stopped by an officer whose desk was located right near the front entrance.

"Can I help you, Sir?" Frank rotated on his right foot to face the officer.

"Yes, I'm looking for Sergeant Vickers. I'm Agent Frank Hardy with the Bureau," he said pulling out his badge. "He's expecting me."

The officer looked at the badge in surprise for a moment before nodding. "Follow me." Just as Frank had thought, Sergeant Vickers's office was one of the main offices on the back wall. The officer escorted him there and took the liberty to knock and announce Frank's presence. Frank was greeted by a man with coffee colored skin. Frank judged him to be in his mid-forties with strong wrinkles on his forehead and definite crow's feet in the corners of his dark brown eyes. His black hair was curly but cut short against a slightly boxy shaped head. He was dressed in a standard issue brown uniform adorned with a name tag bearing his last name.

"Ah, Agent Hardy, good to meet you," Sergeant Vickers said standing and revealing his tall height to shake Frank's hand.

"You too." Vickers sat down and settled back into his chair as Frank took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

"So, you came all this way to inquire about a car?"

Frank nodded. "Yes, what can you tell me about it?"

"Well," he began as he reached for a folder on his desk and passed it to Frank. "It's a 2000, tan, Ford Explorer. Its plates match the ones you gave us. As you can see it's not in great shape." Frank glanced down at the contents of the folder. The first thing he noticed was the picture paper-clipped to the inside of the folder. It was indeed the remains of a tan Ford Explorer. The car itself looked like it had been through a monster truck show. The top of the car had obviously been smashed in like someone had stomped on the top of it. The right side of the car was completely dented in and scratched up. The rear lights on the right side were smashed in. The front windshield was completely smashed so that no one could possibly see through it. In some places, there were actually holes through the glass. In places there were other dents and cracks that were probably caused by trees.

There were pictures of the car at different angles as well as the car in its original location where it had been found. Frank wasn't positive if he'd passed the location, but it looked to have many trees but rocks as well.

"Have you been able to check it over yet?" Frank asked looking up anxiously from the picture.

"We've done only a minimal analysis of the car and what we have is in that folder, but the basis is, the car was found on its side. Its weight was supported by the passenger side. Some blood stains and hair samples were found in the car, but forensics have had little luck in finding a match. It's guessed that the right side of the car hit the guardrail at a speed somewhere around 45 mph to flip over the guardrail like it did. There's not much else to speak of at the moment," Vickers explained.

Frank swallowed hard as he tried to figure out what Vickers may have meant when he said "some blood stains." Either way it meant Nancy had been hurt, what he couldn't figure out was how badly. "What about a driver?"

"The car was found abandoned last night. Our guys guess that the car was there for at least five days. We had already tracked down the car as a rental, but the Agency couldn't specify who'd rented it."

"May I see it?"

"Of course, we have it in a garage just down the street a little ways. I can take you there if you'd like."

Frank shook his head. "I don't want to be a bother. I can do it."

"No trouble really," he said standing and grabbing a set of keys off his desk. "I'm actually quite interested in knowing why the FBI has such an interest in this case. There doesn't seem to be anything extraordinary about this case." Frank followed the Sergeant out of the office and through the cubicles and towards the front door.

"A friend of mine was driving that car. I just want to know what happened to them," Frank answered as vaguely as he could. They stepped outside of the air conditioned building and headed for an all black Ford Crown Victoria. On the top of the car were the traditional red and blue lights. The words "Howard County" were written in grey on the driver and passenger side doors. "Police" was written in grey as well, but in a stripe of blue that faded to grey and outlined in white with double lines that continued along the side of the car. Along side the front of the hood was the Howard County emblem.

The emblem was a rectangle with shaved corners and outlined in white. The inside had a white line that did not quite divide the emblem evenly in half. Inside the white line was the word "Maryland" in grey. The top half of the white line had "Howard County" written in grey and outline of the county itself that cut into the lower half of the emblem. The lower half had a grey shield with a thick white line going through it. The upper half of the shield had three white cross forming a v-shape, while the bottom half had three crosses in a diagonal perpendicular to the white line. Above the shield was a grey knight's helmet with a rearing lion on top. Below the shield was a white ribbon that surround that wrapped around the shield and encased the grey letters spelling out "Pro Bono Publico." The word "Police" was written in grey just to the right of the ribbon.

"Another agent?" Sergeant Vickers asked as he opened the car.

"I can't say," Frank said feeling uncomfortable with the direction the line of questioning was going.

"I understand," he said as he pulled the door shut once he was in. Frank did the same as the sergeant started the car and backed out of the station's parking lot. "We don't see many cases like this," Vickers said in attempt to fill the silence or gain more information, Frank wasn't sure. "We occasionally get people who hit the guardrail and only the occasional drunk will make it through it, but generally nothing the FBI would be interested in."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to break routine," Frank responded tightly. He supposed it was in a small time cop's nature to be curious when a federal agent came to town asking questions about a car crash, but knowing the potential of this case to have someone undercover for whomever these people are that took Nancy, Frank couldn't risk giving away too much information.

They pulled up to the garage within minutes. It was a set rectangular building right off the main road. It had only two garages and two self-gas pumps. As soon as the squad car parked in front of the building, a man in tattered jeans and t-shirt came out to greet them.

"Hey, Sergeant. How's the law side of things?" He greeted them, rubbing his greasy hands on the front section of his t-shirt.

"Not too bad, Terry. I actually came out here to give this man a look at that car we brought in yesterday," Vickers said gesturing to Frank. "He's from the Bureau." Frank grimaced at the comment. He really didn't want everyone knowing who he was and where he was from. He should have made that more clear.

"Frank Hardy," Frank introduced himself.

"Nice to meet ya. Terry Ikeson," he said before raising an eyebrow. "The Bureau, huh? Well, I can tell ya she's clean. No drugs."

"Well, I'm actually not looking for drugs," Frank said hesitantly.

"No?" Terry asked with curiosity.

"He's looking for a friend. It's their car."

"Ah, I see. Well she's right over there. Feel free to search it," Terry said.

"Thank you," Frank said as he followed Vickers over to the car. Frank felt himself gasp quickly at the sight of the car. Seeing it in person was much more gruesome than the photo. Plus, Frank could see that the right rear tire was flat and the front left tire was cocked at a weird angle.

He walked over to the car, his hands shaking as he reached for the driver's side door. He pulled it open gingerly. As he looked around, he could see remnants of the dusting from finger printing. As he looked at some of the visible prints, he realized that there were more than one type and not all of them were visible. Frank didn't know whether to be comforted by that fact or not. After all, it was a rental car and rental companies he was sure, didn't always do a thorough wipe down between drivers. He also knew it could be the prints of someone who abducted Nancy as they reached into the car to pull out her form.

As he continued to look around, he noticed some of the blood stains Vickers had talked about. On the inside of the drivers side door and the console were streaks of blood that probably resulted from Nancy cutting her hand on the numerous shards of glass that littered the front interior of the car. A small, line, even thinner and shorter than the ones on the door and console was also present on the steering wheel. That was the one that made him the most nervous. It showed that Nancy could have hit her head hard enough on the steering wheel to draw blood, which meant she could have suffered a serious head injury.

"Did you do a check in local hospitals for anyone coming in from a car accident in the last week?" Frank called to Vickers who was watching Frank intently.

"Of course, but we didn't have a name or description to give them," Vickers pointed out. "Besides, it's questionable if they even went to the hospital. There's at least a couple dozen clinics from here to Columbia, not to mention it was the right side airbags that deployed and not the front." Frank looked over to the right side and indeed noticed the now deflated white airbags hanging loosely against the inside of the car.

"Do you have a pair of gloves on you?" Frank asked distractedly, his eyes not leaving the inside of the car.

"Should have some in the squad car," Vickers said. Frank could hear his shoes scuff against the gravel in the direction of his car. Frank looked around the inside looking for any sign of her lap top or case files, but couldn't find any. "Here you go," Vickers said from behind Frank. Frank turned around and took the pale latex gloves from the sergeant's hands and snapped them on to his own.

He then began feeling his way around the inside of the car. He ran his hands underneath the seats, the console, under the floor mats, in the glove compartment, anywhere anything could get stuck or hidden. Frank really had no idea what he was looking for, but he hoped he could find some clue of what exactly had happened and maybe where she'd been taken. The front seats had revealed nothing of interest so he moved to the back.

After checking the floor, underneath and between the seats and the pockets behind the front seats he got into the backseat and sat down so he could go through the ashtray in the back. His search revealed nothing. Frank let his eyes roam around the back seat trying to figure out if there was anywhere else something could have hid before he moved to the back storage compartment. Suddenly he realized that the seat next to him, the middle seat, had a pull down arm rest. He grabbed the cloth loop and pulled it down. The rectangular cushion at first revealed nothing, but when he looked in between the gap of the arm rest and the back seat, he could see the side of something black that had been tucked away.

Eagerly, he reached down with his thumb and pointer finger and slid them down against the back seat and into the crevice. His fingers enclosed around a rectangular shape that felt like paper. When he pulled it out, he found it to be a matchbook. The black book made the image on the cover of a purple flower with whitened tips and a protruding yellow center resembling a chili pepper very pronounced. Written in a matching purple and outlined in silver was the word "Nightshade." However, he realized looking at it that the outside looked worn and faded in parts and the inside had only two matches left. The rough strike line on the back was almost a white color from so much use. A phone number was located just below the strike line.

Frank stepped out of the car and approached Sergeant Vickers with the matchbook. "Have you heard of this place?"

Vickers took the matchbook from Frank and whistled. "Your friend likes a good time," Vickers said with a laugh. He handed the matchbook back to Frank. "I know the place. It's a bar down the road about thirty-five miles. It's kind of in the middle of nowhere, but the best entertainment around." Frank watched Vickers grin knowingly at Terry who winked back and felt confused. He didn't quite know what they meant by their comments. "Any reason why your friend would go there?"

"I don't know yet," Frank answered as he pocketed the matchbook with the intention of checking out the bar before returning back to D.C. He searched the back of the truck and found nothing before deciding to check out the outside of the car. He circled the car numerous times, pausing to stare or run his fingers across a scratch in the paint or a dent. He couldn't see any definite sign of a hit from another car. There didn't seem to be any evidence of the car being run off the road, or shot at. He figured if the car had been hit there would have been some evidence of paint from the other vehicle or an odd dent in the back or side of the car, but there was none.

"Anything wrong with the engine system?" Frank asked Terry as he took his eyes off the back bumper.

"Yeah, it's totaled from the trees it hit," Terry said with a chuckle.

Frank fought back an angry comment about the seriousness of the situation. "I _mean_, is there any suspicious absence of anything that could have resulted in an accident like cut break lines?"

"No, not as far as I've seen." Frank told himself to take a deep breath and relax. Between the Sergeant's endless questions and the mechanic's tasteless jokes, Frank found himself fighting very hard to control his temper. He finished his search of the back storage area which revealed nothing.

"Any luck with prints?" Frank asked as he pulled off his gloves and threw them into a nearby trash can.

"The few good prints we got haven't given us a name yet," Vickers informed him. Frank figured the search probably wouldn't reveal anything. The CIA and FBI worked hard to make sure their agents remained out of the system. "But we could help you in your search if you gave us a name."

Frank glared at the sergeant. "National security says I can't."

Sergeant Vickers placed his hands on his waist, and gave Frank a sly grin. "I can see how your friend's presence at Nightshade would be a matter of national security." Terry snickered behind Vickers. Sergeant Vickers stepped up to Frank and met his stormy gaze easily. "Don't go pulling that kind of shit in front of me. Your friend, whoever he is, is not worth my time. Especially, when I go and take the time out of my day to show you this evidence for your case and you don't give me or my department an inch of courtesy. Now unless there's anything else I can do for you," Vickers said daring Frank to make a request, "get the hell out of my town."

10101010

Frank left the town of Rocky Gorge seething. His hands clutched the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. Following their little spat, Vickers had left Frank at the garage leaving him to walk back to his car at the station. He couldn't believe how rude they had been even though inwardly he knew he probably would have been just as mad if he were in Vicker's position. He remembered all those times when he and Joe were younger and the police in foreign places that had never heard the Hardy name would doubt their credibility because of their youth. They didn't trust the experience of two teenagers just because they didn't know them. Now here Frank was a big time federal agent marching into a little town demanding information and not returning the favor. If Frank had been feeling more reasonable he might have directed less of his anger towards the Sergeant, but his frustration in a lack of leads was really getting to him.

He felt the matchbook burning a hole in his pocket as he drove towards Nightshade. As much as he thought that the matchbook could be a vital clue, he also knew that it may not have been Nancy who had left the matchbook. After all, the matchbook looked old and quite worn. It could have been in that section of the arm rest for a while and just been passed over during cleaning. The comments being shared between Vickers and Terry left some doubts in his about how reliable the matchbook might be, but he had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts and his instincts at the moment were definitely telling him that the matchbook was an important clue.

What also seemed quite puzzling was the condition of the car. Frank had expected to find some evidence of a car wreck or struggle that would have set up a good explanation as to why the car had been found off the road. However, with no sign of unexplained paint and corresponding dents, it almost seemed like Nancy may have run the car off the road herself. To Frank, that seemed too implausible. The action was too dangerous to simply try and get somebody off her trail. The clues just weren't adding up. He seriously hoped that his brother and Bess were doing better than he was.

About thirty minutes later he slowed his car down as he saw a faded sign pointing to a dirt road with the name Nightshade on it in similar colors as the matchbook. He took the right turn off the road where it dead-ended into a large gravel parking lot about a mile later. Looking at the place called Nightshade, Frank seriously began to doubt the validity of his instincts. The place was a pit.

The whole building was constructed out of wood, which in many places looked unnaturally dark or rotting. The sign reading Nightshade had harsh fluorescent lights that curved around so that they pointed at the peeling purple sign. As he looked around, most of the vehicles parked outside where either trucks or bikes. As he approached the front door he saw a sign that looked to be made out of cardboard and a black marker that read: "All women use back entrance." A buffed up African American stood outside in a tee-shirt and jean shorts. He gave Frank a suspicious glare but said nothing as he reached for the door to go inside.

The inside was worse than the outside. A good crowd had already accumulated, he guessed for happy hour. The whole room seemed to breathe cigarette smoke. The walls looked even darker than the ones outside and the only sign of any decorations where a few deer antlers on the wall. The bar was located to the right of the entrance along the back wall. As Frank glanced around, he began to understand the jokes that were being passed between the two Rocky Gorge men.

Between the bar and a stage there were numerous round tables. In the far back left hand corner, there was even a mechanical bull, but Frank knew that's not what drew in the crowd. The stage was lit up with alternating pink, blue and green lights and pulsating music. The stage itself was almost setup with four individual runways, except they ended in round platforms. Two of the platforms faced the front of the bar and the other two ran off either side. Each platform had a single metal pole and each pole was being occupied by some busty woman with very little on and becoming less and less by the minute.

Frank turned away from the stage and the women with distaste. Frank had been to bars like this once or twice, but the only time he'd even remotely enjoyed it was when he'd been flat out drunk. The kind of women in places like this weren't the kind of women looking for a relationship and Frank was more of a relationship kind of guy.

Looking around, Frank also understood why Vickers had assumed that Frank's "friend" had been male. The only women in the place aside from the ones on stage were three waitresses that easily could have jumped on stage and taken any one of the current women's place at any time. Frank debated for a moment whether he wanted to leave or take a chance with the bartender. He doubted now that Nancy had come in here. He could never picture her in a place like this. On an off chance and not feeling like he had much to lose, Frank made his way towards the bar.

"Excuse me." The bartender was an overweight and balding man, wearing a stained wife beater and plaid shorts.

"Yeah?" he asked in a way that reminded Frank of the way people talked in old movies when they had a cigar in their mouth.

"Have you seen this woman?" Frank removed the picture of Nancy from his wallet. The man grabbed the picture from Frank's hand and reached into his pocket to pull out a pair of reading glasses. He studied it for a moment and then looked at Frank with a slight grin.

"Sure, I've seen her. Her hair ain't this red. Gotta say she looks better as a blond." He handed the picture back to Frank. His face turned into an almost leering smile. "I gotta thing for blonds." Frank felt a mixture of emotions overcome him. On the one hand he was excited that he may have found a clue to Nancy's disappearance. On the other hand, he didn't like the look in the bartender's eyes; like Nancy somehow brought up a pleasurable memory. It made Frank feel sick to his stomach.

"When?" Frank demanded impatient to get answer and away from this man.

"Turn around, she's just warming up." He said taking off his glasses and looking over Frank's shoulder. Frank turned around in slow motion so that he was now facing the stage. The brunette and blond he'd seen on stage when he entered were gone and replaced with two striking blonds.

One blond was dawned in tiny black heels and matching black leather chaps that covered her bare legs. She wore a pair of hot pink underwear and a matching bra, barely hidden by a yellow see-through top. A black cowboy hat completed her outfit as she suddenly grabbed the pole and began to slide herself up and down it. A few whistles came from the back as Frank's eyes moved to the other woman.

This woman too was going with the western theme. She wore a tiny jean mini skirt that was purposely made to look worn. The mini-skirt did little to hide the lacy black underwear she was wearing, especially when she wrapped one of her long shiny legs around the metal pole to spin on her tall black heels. She wore a blue see-through top like the other blond, but it tied together just below her breasts to show off her toned stomach. A blue bra underneath the top kept the men to their imaginations if just for a short while.

Her blond hair was in low pig-tails on either side of her head but it was her face that took Frank's breath away. The woman had just completed a twirl when she swung around, her grip on the pole as she extended her body was the only thing keeping her from falling to the ground. When she caught sight of Frank watching her and she suddenly froze. Blue eyes met brown and a second later the woman's hands became sweaty and she hit the platform with a thud that seemed to reverberate in Frank's ears along with the pounding of his heart. Frank knew without a doubt that the fallen stripper was none other than Nancy Drew.

* * *

_I know, I know. Nancy Drew as a stripper is totally unbelieveable right? Well, before I get any rants or ravings about it being totally out of Nancy's character and something she'd never do, just be patient until the next chapter where you will get an explanation for the whole thing. You gotta admit though, if Nancy ever was a stripper, who better to find her than Frank Hardy?!?! Grins mischieviously_


	12. The Other Side of Me

A/N: I really apologize for leaving my story at the point it was at for so long. I do know what it's like to have to wait for posts and it does suck. Unfortunately, time is very valuable and as long as I'm school, it's not likely I'll be able to update much, so actually, you all got lucky with this update. With that said, don't plan to read any updates till December. I am really sorry. Hang in there.

Chapter 11

Frank stood there unable to comprehend the sight before him. So many questions were going through his mind that he didn't even know where to begin. His first urge however, was to run up onto the stage and stand in front of Nancy so that no one could see her, but shock kept him frozen there, staring in disbelief. He wanted to look away, he knew he should, but there had been too many times he had wanted to see more than what was under her conservative dress. Then all of a sudden here she was, showing off her body to strangers. Frank shivered.

A commotion began to stir as the men in the bar looked curiously at Nancy, who was now getting to her feet with uncertainty. Even the woman next to her in the leather chaps was flashing her quick glances while maintaining the provocative smile on her face. _Of all the people who could have walked into the bar, why did it have to be Frank?_ Nancy groaned to herself. _And how the hell did he find me?_ Nancy didn't know at the moment whether or not it was coincidence or Frank had come looking for her, but she liked to think it was because of her. At the same time, she had the urge to run off stage and out of his view. She wouldn't have been caught dead in clothes like these, especially not in front of Frank. She could see a haunting look of desire in his eyes as he stared at her unmoving. Instead of shivering at such an intense gaze, she found herself blushing. _God dammit, Hardy_!

She took a moment to assess her situation as she glanced at Ben Walker, the bartender. His eyes were looking at her suspiciously as he looked back and forth between her and Frank. _Shit. _Making a split second decision she jumped of the stage and went at a working walk to where Frank was standing.

Frank felt Nancy grab his hand as she passed him, making a beeline towards the door. Frank felt himself snap out of his trance as he followed Nancy's swaying hips. He felt relief, confusion, happiness and anger all at once. Unfortunately, it was anger that got the better of him. "Nancy, what the hell?" He wanted to say more but he couldn't quite put what she'd been doing in there into words.

"Keys?" Nancy demanded as she looked around the parking lot, purposefully ignoring his question. Frank mechanically reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys which Nancy quickly took before Frank could even think.

"You're not driving!" Frank said looking at Nancy incredulously.

"Oh yes I am!" Nancy yelled back as she climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, giving Frank the option of getting in or getting out of the way. With a curse, Frank angrily pulled open the passenger side door and jumped in as Nancy took the dirt road towards the highway.

"What the hell were you doing there, Frank?!" Nancy's words came out in an angry rush in order to hide her embarrassment.

"What was I—" Frank repeated in disbelief. "What were you doing?"

"Did you have me followed or something?" Nancy purposefully passed up his questions once again.

"Followed?! Fuck, Nancy, we thought you'd been kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped? Why would you ever—" Nancy started to say but was cut off as she almost hit a car as she reached the highway, forcing her to slam on her breaks. "What are you even doing in Virginia?"

"Bess called Joe and told us when you didn't show to her charity banquet."

Nancy looked down at the wheel for a moment before looking back up at the road. "I wanted to call her," Nancy said distantly. "I wanted to tell her I was okay; so she wouldn't worry."

"Nancy, would you please tell me what's going on and why the hell you were in that—that place?" Frank looked imploringly at Nancy whose gaze remained firmly on the road, specifically on the break lights of the van Frank's rental car was quickly approaching.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Nancy mumbled quietly.

Frank struggled to calm his emotions but knew as he spoke that he was failing miserably. "Stop it, Nancy. Just stop it!" She glanced at him slightly startled by his tone. "We came looking for you. We left the Bureau and have put our jobs at risk! We've been searching day and night hoping to find some clue of what you've been doing or what happened to you. We didn't even know if you were alive. Don't you dare put me off. Don't you dare try and shut me out! Talk to me like you used to. Please Nancy, just talk to me," Frank concluded, his voice finally falling to a gentle tone.

He could see her jaw tighten and her eyes filled with various passing emotions that he had trouble deciphering.

"We're almost to the motel," Nancy whispered back. Frank slumped back into his seat feeling hurt and angry. A few minutes later the neon sign of a run-down hotel came into view. It brandished the name "Leisurely Suites." The place didn't seem to live up to its name.

Nancy pulled into the parking lot and parked. She left the car, keys in hand, and without inviting or looking to see if Frank would follow. Frank looked around at the place warily. Maintenance apparently wasn't one of the motel's biggest concerns. The white paint that covered most of the wooden railings and outdoor access rooms was peeling or a questionable off-white color.

The doors to each of the rooms were an ugly greenish-brown color that gave Frank the impression that they might have been a vibrant lime green color. Most of the windows that weren't shielded with red curtains were clouded from a lack of cleaning, like the salt that covered the windows of beach front properties. A biker with a long grayish beard and dark sunglasses cast a glance in Frank's direction before tightening his grip on a bleach blond woman that was wearing hardly anymore than Nancy and continuing in the direction of his Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

Frank walked reluctantly to a motel room on the first floor that he'd seen Nancy enter minutes before. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Believing knocking would be a waste of time Frank simply opened the door and walked in.

He found the inside less appealing than the outside. The dark red sheets made Frank feel uneasy about what the owners may have been trying to hide. The light blue wall paper was peeling in many places and others, looked strangely burnt, perhaps by a cigarette. In some of the sections that had been peeled away, Frank could make out places where rude remarks had been written in pen and pencil on the wall. The carpet was shaggy and dark green, seemingly to go with the dark red comforters and the painted door, but its effect was nauseating.

Frank caught sight of Nancy sitting on the farther of the two double beds. Her see-through shirt lay forgotten on the floor near her feet and replaced with a rather large plain blue t-shirt. It was so long that it fell way past her jean skirt that he couldn't even be certain she was still wearing due to the fact it was out of sight. He took a seat beside her, surprised a little at the lack of bounce in the mattress as he did so. He didn't say a word to her, it wasn't his turn.

Nancy turned her head towards him as she felt her body lean in towards his weight. She remained silent, just watching him and him her. Fleeting images of her in that provocative clothing passed through his mind as he took in her blond hair and blue eyes. He knew he should be angry; that she had a lot of explaining to do, but all he could think about were those eyes. The hair wasn't hers, but those eyes were. They were hers and they were open and they were alive. In that moment, that's all he could think of. One moment they were watching each other and in the next Frank had captured Nancy's lips with her own. His emotions however, caught up with him causing the kiss to be slightly angrier and more emotional than he intended. He could feel that the intensity caught her off guard. He was pushing his lips and tongue forcefully onto hers, challenging her to respond. She did respond by slowing the kisses and pulling away lightly in an attempt to lessen the bruising pressure of Frank's kisses. When this tactic didn't seem to work, she pulled away entirely.

"I need to pack," she said turning away from him without looking at him. Frank groaned silently, trying to make sense of what had just happened and what he should do next. Just as he pushed against the mattress to propel him up he felt something metal fall onto the top of his hand. He looked over and saw that they were the keys to his car. He grabbed them in his fist and left the room. He walked outside making his way towards the car but paced in front of it. He didn't know what to do.

He paused and looked up as he heard the crunch of gravel. Nancy stopped like a startled animal and caught his cold look of disbelief in his normally open and warm brown eyes. The force of the gaze caused her to turn away but she didn't move. She heard the shifting of Frank's footsteps and followed with her head down.

Frank noticed that the take-charge and defensive attitude that Nancy had equipped herself with the moment she'd seen him was gone, leaving Frank even more confused, but definitely not ready to give way to sympathy yet. Frank put the key in the ignition with some force and started the car. He pulled out of the parking lot without a word and he headed back towards the highway.

The car was quiet and the tension at an all time high. Nancy wished there was something she could have focused on rather then the two of them sitting in the car next to each other in the long drive back to Langley but she didn't dare try turning on the radio. He deserved an explanation and she knew it. She couldn't imagine if the situation had been reversed and she'd gone along thinking that he'd been kidnapped and possibly dead. The guilt of dragging him from his job in search of her was overpowering and yet at the same time made her heart flutter. However, the kiss had completely undone her.

When his lips had met hers she was filled with nostalgia. Her vision flickered between their time near the track field and the many other kisses they shared when they actually had been dating. The images were short lived the moment Frank's kiss had intensified. She recognized the difference. He was not kissing her just because he was happy to see her or because he wanted to have sex with her. It was like any other of their verbal fights since they had reunited after three years. He was challenging her to fight back, but for some reason, she couldn't do it. She didn't want to argue with her words, and she knew she couldn't fight with a kiss.

"I met with Rhonda," Nancy began, thinking it was the best place to start. Frank glanced at her with surprise and uncertainty before turning his attention back to the road. "Last Friday she finally returned my call and agreed to meet with me, reluctantly. She seemed tense," Nancy explained as if she was searching for the right emotion. "She wouldn't let me into the house without seeing my badge and seemed to be continuously looking over her shoulder. The first thing she told me was that she was framed. When I tried asking her who or why she refused to answer. I had a feeling that she had something that she really wanted to tell me, but for some reason she couldn't.

"I left feeling frustrated until she contacted me again Saturday night through a cryptic text message asking to meet. I agreed and met her at a bar in DC. She was even more nervous than the last time we'd met. She said that they were watching her ever since she'd talked to me. When I asked who "they" were she answered with 'people.' When I asked her the point of the meeting she told me once again that she'd been framed, but this time she said it was because she hadn't gone through with orders."

"_What orders?" Nancy demanded. "To kill the Secretary?" Rhonda stared back at Nancy, fear in her eyes but she was silent. "Who ordered it?"_

"_Rhonda, who ordered it?" Nancy asked more forcefully. _

"_I don't know," Rhonda said, her frustration and anxiety causing her to clench her eyes shut and rub her tired arms against her forearms. _

"_What do you mean you don't know?" Nancy persisted._

"_They'll kill me," Rhonda insisted, raising her head again, her eyes filling with tears. "They-they're watching my house, I'm sure my phones and rooms in my house are tapped. They're watching me because they saw you."_

_Nancy swallowed hard moving past the idea that this group of people might be aware of her investigation and targeting her. "Who are they, Rhonda? Give me a name, any name." Rhonda looked at Nancy like she didn't quite understand what Nancy was saying. "We can protect you," Nancy rushed out without thinking about any idea of how she was going to convince her boss of that. "The CIA can protect you, your family, anyone you need. Just give me a name."_

"She gave me a single name," Nancy said slowly before stopping. Frank glanced at her, confused at the expression on her face that showed she was preparing herself for something and it made her look pained. "John Smith," she said quietly. "She linked it to Nightshade, but it was up to me to find out what it meant.

"It took me a little while, but I linked Nightshade, the club, to one of the joint owners, John Smith. I scouted the place out and found out what it was about. The best way I could see to getting inside and getting into the backroom without suspicion was to get a job there. I left Monday night after advising Rhonda to go into hiding and headed towards Rocky Gorge. It was on my way there I realized I was being followed and they ran me off the road. I don't think they came towards the car, otherwise I'm sure they would have killed me because I was out cold for at least an hour when I hit my head on the steering wheel," Nancy said wincing at the memory.

"By this time, I knew I couldn't try contacting anyone, especially Bess," Nancy said, and Frank could hear the genuine regret in her voice. "I needed to lay low and still continue my investigation. I tried sending Bess an e-mail from a public server to let her know I was alright, but the only way I could do that without raising suspicion was to encode it as a junk e-mail. My guess is she filtered it out and never saw it; otherwise she wouldn't have called you guys.

"I decided I couldn't rent another car without getting some sort of identification from the CIA, and knowing that wouldn't happen since I've had to dip out on my therapy appointments, I took to grabbing rides or walking to Nightshade. I picked out as good of a disguise as I could afford on the money I had on me and improved it as much as I could by using the money I'd earned working.

"I took every opportunity to go into the office and try and go through the computer and the file cabinets, but everything was poorly managed. I couldn't make heads or tails of the expenditures or income books. All that I found was that every month, a check for $500,000 was made to the night club by J. Smith. Nothing was ever noted about what was done with the money. I downloaded what I could onto a flash drive and tried to focus on the papers in the filing cabinet, but there was really no order to anything and most of it seemed to be random receipts for food and beverage purchases."

"You heard about Rhonda?" Frank asked.

He watched her body sigh. "I did and I felt so helpless. After all, if she hadn't met with me, she wouldn't have been watched and killed."

"She knew what she was getting herself into. She knew the risks, Nancy. If she hadn't wanted to help you, she never would have agreed to meet with you," Frank reassured. Nancy didn't respond.

Frank let silence fill the car as he let everything Nancy had just said sink in. It was looking more and more like Nancy was right. There did seem to be something big going on, and whoever these people were, they weren't interested in being exposed quite yet. Unfortunately, even Rhonda's information was going to be limited and it certainly wouldn't hold up as evidence for either the FBI or CIA and none of it quite linked up to the caliber Nancy had been talking about. A plot to kill one US Secretary was not the same as trying to kill every high positioned official in office.

"Nancy…" Frank started.

"Please, Frank, don't." Nancy said stopping him immediately. She looked like she'd been waiting for him to start speaking as shook her head. He could see the hints of tears in her eyes as she sniffled. "I know that John Smith is a very common name and Nightshade could mean anything, and there's nothing to relate Ridder's death with all the others, I know that. I'm not crazy, like you think I am." Nancy let the tears fall down her face now as she talked and Frank felt his heart tighten as he watched on. "But I honestly believe my instincts are right. I need you to believe in me." Nancy was sobbing now. "Please, Frank, please believe in me."

Frank had never heard Nancy Drew ever plead for anything in her life. Before he knew it he'd pulled the car over to the side of the road, undoing his seatbelt, and taking Nancy in his arms as best as he could in the front seat of his car. Nancy clenched his shirt into balls in her hands as she cried into his chest. He didn't know what to say. Frank Hardy was literally speechless.

Until this moment, he never believed anything he'd said to Nancy mattered. Arguing about who was right and who was wrong almost seemed like a competitive game and he was the one with nothing to lose. Now, here she was, crying into his chest and saying that all she wanted was for him to have faith in her while his own conscience looked down on him and increased the feeling of guilt about trying to spite her anger rather than being the respectful friend he used to be.

"I'm sorry," Nancy said as she started to pull away from his chest, but he pulled her back. "I thought I could do this without you, especially when you seemed so against my ideas. I was wrong. It was stupid of me to stay mad this long and for me to have disappeared. I am so sorry, Frank." Nancy finished her last sentence by looking into his brown eyes with her own reddened ones in defeat, in love, and in regret.

"Hey," Frank started softly, "it wasn't all your fault. I should have told you about Callie all those years ago. I was a fool to think I could keep going the way I was. And I should have given your theories a chance. _And_ I most certainly shouldn't have gone off in front of the board like I did. That was me being angry rather than a friend. I'm so sorry, Nancy." He pulled her close and held her tight, relishing in her familiar smell and feel. "I would have done anything to know you were safe."

Frank looked down into her swollen blue eyes and thought she was perfect. In that moment, they were perfect, just like that day by the track field three years ago. He closed his eyes and lowered his lips towards hers where they melded in a gentle emotional kiss. Gone was the fierce harshness he had applied to her before. There was nothing but love and respect in their first true kiss in three years.

Too quickly, it seemed to Frank, Nancy pulled away with a hiss of pain and Frank looked at her in concern. "My bruise from the car accident rubbed against the arm rest," she said taking deep gulps of air with her eyes closed. Frank gently reached over and lifted her shirt, revealing the tops of a black pair of track shorts he hadn't realized she'd changed into and a mostly pale stomach. He looked closely, but all he could see was a very faint blue line going diagonally to her right hip.

"It doesn't look bad," Frank stated.

Nancy gritted her teeth as Frank grazed his fingers over it. "It's called cover-up. I pretty much coated my whole body with it." It was then that Nancy finally opened her eyes and took in Frank's face.

"Oh my gosh, what happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?" Frank let her shirt fall as he put his hands over the tops of Nancy's that were examining a bruise that Frank hadn't realized was forming.

"Uh, Joe hit me," Frank said sheepishly. Nancy looked taken back.

"Your brother hit you?"

"Well, he actually kinda knocked some sense into me. I guess I kind of deserved it." Frank then explained as best he could the days that had transpired since Bess's call. When he'd finished, he found Nancy sitting with her head bowed down.

"I'm so sorry I put you guys through all that. If I had just thought—"

"It's okay, it's done now. You're here, safe and sound and we're going to figure this all out when we get back, okay?"

Nancy raised her head and nodded with a small smile. "Okay." Frank smiled back and leaned in for another kiss just as there was a tap at his window. Frank and Nancy jumped apart startled as Frank placed one hand on his gun. He relaxed when he realized it was just a state trooper. He rolled the window down and looked at the officer expectantly.

"Car trouble?" the police officer asked dubiously.

"No, Sir," Frank responded. "Just needed a moment to take a call."

The police officer looked at him suspiciously for a moment before speaking as if he was debating whether or not to believe his story. "This is an emergency shoulder only. If you want to make a call get off at an exit."

"Yes, Sir," Frank said trying to keep himself from laughing. He kept his eyes off Nancy because he knew that she was probably trying to do the same thing. Frank waited as the officer gave them one last final glare before walking back to his car before turning Nancy. All it took was one brief eye contact and they were laughing hysterically.

"Come on, let's put Joe and Bess out of their misery," Frank said smiling a genuine smile for the first in what felt like an eternity.

Nancy's laughter finally subsided and she nodded in agreement. "Sounds good." Frank started the car and pulled back into highway traffic. He waved with his left hand briefly as the patrol car followed them for a short time before passing them. His other hand remained sitting on the arm rest, right on top of Nancy's.

1111

"You ready?" Frank asked giving Nancy's hand a quick squeeze. Ever since their conversation in the car, Frank hadn't let go of Nancy's hand and he wasn't about to, especially now that they stood outside of the door to Frank's hotel room.

"I guess." Frank nodded as he slipped his key into the slot and pulled it out quickly and the light turned green.

"Nancy!" Came a squeal of delight from the living room. A second later Bess had her arms wrapped around her best friend so fast Frank's hand was ripped out of Nancy's. Nancy winced as the force of the hug squished her bruises, but it was only Frank who caught it.

"Move over, Marvin!" Joe said coming up beside Bess as she pulled away. "I'm so glad you're alright," Joe whispered into her ear as he too, hugged her. This time, Bess noticed her pained expression and pulled Joe away.

"Nan, are you alright?"

"Just a little bruising."

Bess raised her eyebrows in alarm. "Nancy, were you—were you beaten?" Bess asked squeakily.

"No, no, not at all," Nancy assured them. "I um—I," she looked over at Frank for help. He recognized the look instantly and grabbed her hand. This did not go unnoticed by Joe.

"Why don't we go to the couch and Nancy will explain," Frank suggested. Joe and Bess looked slightly perplexed by this, but they followed. This time the closeness between the two and the holding hands couldn't be ignored by Bess. She wanted to smile. It was like all those soap operas she used to watch. After all the drama was said and done, there always was a happy ending.

Frank coaxed Nancy through her long story of her contacting Rhonda and going into hiding and undercover. She did leave out the part about her undercover job being a stripper. That was something her friends didn't need to know, at least for now. When she was done she waited anxiously for some sort of acceptance and forgiveness from her friends.

"Nancy Drew, I can't believe you went and put yourself at risk like that. If you ever think of worrying me like that—" Bess lectured, only half-angry, but to Nancy she might as well been yelling.

"It won't happen again," Nancy promised.

"Damn straight it won't, Drew," Joe added. "Especially, if we put you on house arrest. That'll keep me and my brother here from losing our minds."

"You won't have too," Bess said, with an evil grin this time. "I'm sure Frank isn't going to be letting Nancy Drew out of his sights anytime soon. Isn't that right, Frank?"

Frank blushed slightly, but turned towards Nancy nodding. "It's true."

"Great," Nancy groaned. "I should have stayed in hiding." But everyone knew she didn't mean it.

"So, where do we go from here?" Joe asked.

"First, I think we should check out tomorrow," Nancy advised.

"I don't think that'll make much of a difference as long as we have that car around. If they want to know where we are, they can just track it and locate us," Frank pointed out.

"We can get around without it though. D.C.'s got taxis, buses, and the Metro. The more public we stay, the better it might be anyway."

"I agree with Nancy, though," Bess spoke up. "We get rid of the car and move our location, we'll just be that much harder to locate."

"In the morning, though," Frank said sternly. "We've all been through a lot today."

"Then what?" Bess asked.

"The only other thing it seems like we can do is try and discover who this John Smith guy is and his connection with Nightshade." Joe looked over at Nancy. "Do you have the flash drive on you?" Nancy nodded. "Then we'll analyze that tomorrow. It's going to be a little slow going without FBI or CIA access, but we'll do our best." Nancy looked confused for a moment but Frank quickly explained about their deadline.

"Damn, I got you guys into so much trouble," Nancy said looking guilty.

"We'll worry about you paying us back later," Joe said with a grin. "Right now, food?" Everyone laughed.

1111

Nancy sat in the living room just having taken a shower and running a comb through her hair. She was dressed in a pair of pink pajamas she'd borrowed from Bess deciding not to worry about going to Nancy's hotel room till the morning to get her stuff. Bess was already asleep and Joe had just gotten into the shower.

"How are you feeling?" Nancy looked up as Frank entered the room in a pair of loose gym shorts and a t-shirt. He was staring at her worriedly and it took a moment for Nancy to realize why.

"It looks worse than it is, I promise you." Frank walked over and sat next to her, staring intently at the small cut on her forehead. It looked to be about an inch long, pink, but not deep and surrounded by a purple bruise.

"You were knocked unconscious. Did you even go to the doctor's?" Frank asked. Nancy gave him an incredulous look.

"That would have been like wearing a neon sign that said, 'Nancy Drew is here.' Quite the opposite of laying low if you ask me."

"It _would_ make it easier to keep track of you," Frank teased for a moment before turning serious again. "Are you sure you okay?"

"Just a little sore," Nancy assured him. Frank looked skeptical as he reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled it up a little to take a better look at her stomach. The faint purple he'd seen earlier and claimed didn't look too bad was now in the shape of about a three-inch stripe across her stomach of purple and green like swirling clouds on a stormy day.

"Jesus, Nancy, you could have broken ribs," Frank said examining the stripes anxiously.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Nancy said with a small humorless chuckle.

"This isn't funny, Nancy." He was looking at her with great concern and a facial expression that told her she should be concerned too.

"I know it isn't. It'll be fine. I'll take some Advil before bed." Nancy knew Frank didn't like the idea, but he also was smart enough to know that Nancy's crack about going to the hospital was actually true. Nancy leaned her head against Frank's shoulder, closed her eyes and found her body fell into complete relaxation. This was where she was meant to be and it was where she was going to stay. _Except for the persistent poking,_ she thought to herself.

"Nancy," she heard Frank whisper just as she opened her eyes.

"What?" she groaned as she realized that she'd fallen asleep.

"We should get you in bed," Frank suggested, smiling.

"Alright," Nancy said getting to her feet slowly and reluctantly.

"Aren't you coming?" she said looking down at him expectantly.

"Of course," he said standing beside and grabbing her hand. "I go where you go. I thought that was already decided."

Nancy giggled. "You let me shower by myself."

"You get one free card," Frank relented. Nancy leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Frank responded by placing his hands on her upper-back.

"Good thing I used it then," Nancy murmured moments before their lips met.


	13. Breathe

A/N: After a very long hiatus, I present you all with the next chapter! I apologize for taking so long, but with classes and stuff it's so hard to find some time to update. I hope to get a couple of more chapters up this summer, but we'll see what happens. I appreciate everyone who continues to read and review!

Chapter 12

"Morning, sunshine," Joe greeted as Bess made an effort to mask the sound of closing her bedroom door.

"What are you doing up so early?" Bess gave him a suspicious look.

"I could ask you the same question because personally, you look good dripping wet," Joe said with a wink. Bess glared back at him and he laughed. "Actually, I guess I'm excited. It's been awhile since we've been a team working on a case."

"Speaking of teams," Bess said with a devilish grin as she took a seat at the dining room table across from Joe, "you know that Nancy and Frank slept together last night?"

"You mean they—"

"No!" Bess glared at him. "Seriously, I was in the room. They wouldn't do that! Get your mind outta the gutter Joe Hardy."           

"Hey, they've kept all their feelings and emotions bottled up for so long, I wouldn't have been surprised." Bess looked at Joe in disbelief. "Okay, okay. I guess I would've been surprised if they'd done it with you in the room."

"_Anyway_," Bess stressed with a pointed look at Joe, "they looked so cute. Frank had his arm around Nancy's waist and they were snuggled up looking so peaceful and happy. It's really nice to see Nancy this relaxed for once."

"No better time when some mysterious terrorists are trying to kill you either." Joe's sarcasm did not amuse Bess. "Alright, I'll stop talking. I can take a hint." Joe's look turned mischievous and playful. "Can you, Bess Marvin?" Bess looked over as Joe started rubbing the seat of the chair next him. Bess couldn't help but grin. Joe Hardy just had some spell over her that she was incapable of breaking, even if she wanted to.

12121212

            Nancy stretched as she rolled over and slowly opened her eyes surprised when her reaching arms connected with something fleshy. Her surroundings looked unfamiliar to her and it took a moment for her to register that whoever was next to her had their arm around her waist. She turned around underneath the arm that remained securely around her. Bits and pieces of yesterday's events came back to her in distorted sequences but half a minute later it registered that only one person could possibly be beside her. She rolled over so her blue eyes met a pair of warm brown ones that she was all too familiar with.

            "We've got to work on your morning greetings," Frank said, a playful grin on his face.

            "Why's that?" She snuggled up against him as he pulled her closer.

            "Well, most people don't wake people up by poking them in the forehead." Nancy blushed. "I mean, it's okay, I'm just worried that you might miss and, well, poke me in the eye or something and that might hurt." Nancy laughed.

            Frank feigned hurt. "I didn't know inflicting bodily harm upon me was so amusing."

            "Only if I do it," Nancy said seriously.

            "What if I do this?" Frank said leaning over as if to kiss her, but at the last moment removing his hand from her waist and placing his hands along her sides. Nancy began laughing and at the same time pleading.

            "Frank…please." It took a second for Frank to realize that her laughter was purely a result of his tickling and the tears that had started to form in her eyes were a result of pain. Frank stopped immediately and sat up looking at Nancy in concern. Nancy began taking deep breaths with her hands folded tightly under her chest as if the position helped to lessen the pain.

            "Nan…I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" He hovered over her as her breathing began to slow and she was finally able to answer.

            "It's alright. I'm fine," she answered, finally pulling her arms away from her body.

            "I can't believe I forgot," he said shaking his head. He pulled the sheets off himself and turned as if to step out of bed but Nancy grabbed his arm.

            "Hey, it's alright. I'm fine, I promise. No harm done." Nancy gave him a genuine smile. Frank's anger at himself began to dissipate as Nancy pulled him closer. He fell back in bed beside her and gently rolled Nancy closer to him. He looked into the depths of her eyes and wondered how he had survived the last three years without her because he couldn't imagine being anywhere else at the moment.

            He brought his lips to hers, relishing in their moistness before allowing their tongues to meet. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Nancy finally pulled away. "If there was anything to forgive, you're forgiven," Nancy murmured, her eyes still half-closed and lost in the emotions of the kiss.

            Frank chuckled and hugged her gently. "We should get up and get going."

            "Yeah, you're right," Nancy said with a groan as she opened her eyes fully and sat up. Frank looked on with continual concern, but he knew there'd been times when both of them had been in worse shape. For the moment there was nothing they could do, and for now, he had to deal with that.

            "We'll get through this." Frank looked up at Nancy, not realizing she'd noticed him watching her.

            "Shouldn't I be saying that?" Frank asked, amazed at her strength.

            "I don't think I'm the one who needs to hear it right now." Nancy's expression turned mischievous. "But you should actually be saying something about breakfast."

            Frank laughed and held his arm out for Nancy to join him at his side. She walked over to him and he placed his arm easily around her shoulders. Frank opened the bedroom and stepped into the living only to be pulled back when he realized Nancy wasn't moving.

            "Nan?" he glanced at her and then to where her eyes were focused.

            If Frank had been a cartoon, his jaw would have hit the floor. Nancy too, was in a state of shock. Both knew that one or the other had mentioned something about their friends, but whether it was because both of their personalities were naturally flirtatious or because there was actually something there; neither Frank nor Nancy could ever figure it out. Now, to find their friends actually kissing was just mind blowing.

            Frank cleared his throat and the two broke apart with Joe looking surprised and Bess looking guilty. "Morning," Nancy said with a grin.

            "Morning," Bess responded feebly. Frank and Nancy took a seat at the dining room table as Joe and Bess stood stock still, as if waiting to see what Frank and Nancy would do.

            "Sooo…" Nancy said giving them an opening to begin, but neither Bess nor Joe seemed capable of finding their voices. "When did this start?"

            "Uh well…really um…" Bess tried.

            "Officially, a few days ago," Joe answered for Bess. "But we've always found some chemistry between us." Bess nodded in agreement.

            Frank and Nancy looked at each other with a smile. "Is it serious?"

            "We're going to see what happens," Bess put in.

            "Now, that you two lovebirds are finally up we can get down to breakfast," Joe said changing the subject. Nancy however, sent a look at Bess across the table that said this discussion wasn't over.

            Frank took to placing the order of breakfast with room service so that twenty minutes the four of them were eating an array of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit and juices. Nancy smiled along and chatted like old times with her friends, but despite her initial enthusiastic transition to the idea of breakfast much of her plate was left untouched. In the back of her mind was the subject that they were all avoiding; a subject that was harder for her to ignore, especially since she felt the pain every time she moved.

            Frank watched Nancy closely over breakfast. She was animated and enthusiastic, laughing and smiling at the right times, but it seemed well-practiced. The few pieces of fruit she'd picked out from the array of food remained mostly on her plate and as the meal went on, she seemed to fall more silent. It didn't take Bess and Joe long to catch on, though, and no one knew quite how to bring up the subject.

            Nancy had taken to thoroughly cutting her fruit with her fork so that now most of it looked mushy and unappetizing but she suddenly dropped her fork on her plate, her eyes showing complete seriousness and her mouth unsmiling.

            "I need to go back to my hotel room and grab a few things and then we should leave."

            "I'll go with you," Frank said. Nancy stood up and headed for the bedroom she shared with Bess as Frank and Joe headed to theirs to change.

            Nancy walked in and grabbed the bag she'd taken from the motel and pulled out a hairbrush. She ran the brush through her hair several times, waiting for Bess to enter the room. Bess closed the door behind her a minute later.

            "Okay, before you grill me, I just want to say that I really do think he's a great guy. We haven't really figured out anything yet, but we really want to give this a shot." Nancy gave Bess a weak smile.

            "Bess, that's great."

            Bess looked at Nancy searchingly. "But…?"

            "That's not what I was going to say. I mean I think it's great that you and Joe want to be together. I couldn't be happier for you, but Bess, I—I was thinking that it would be okay if you wanted to go."

            "Go?" Bess said the word with bewilderment. "Why would I go?"

            "Bess, you have a life to go back to. A magazine to run. I can't expect you to join me on a rogue mission to take down terrorists where you can possibly get yourself killed. We're not amateur detectives anymore. Frank, Joe and I are trained for this, but you're not. I just don't want to see you hurt," Nancy insisted.

            Bess gazed at Nancy with love as she sat on the bed beside her friend. "Nan, I appreciate your concern for me, but do you really expect me to walk away from this? Don't get me wrong, I love the magazine, but as you put it, we're on 'a rogue mission to take down terrorists,' potentially to save the world. I can't possibly even dream of sitting in my office talking about dress colors and accessories while the three of you are getting all the glory!" Bess joked.

            "You've jazzed up and glamorized our jobs a lot, Bess," Nancy responded seriously, "and I can promise you that it's not going to be so cinematic. These guys will kill you without a second thought."

            "I'm in it this far, Nan, I can hardly turn my back on you guys now. Even you know that if they've been keeping tabs on you, they know about me," Bess pointed out, "either way I might as well help out."

            Nancy nodded solemnly. On the one hand she was grateful for having such a loyal friend, but on the other hand she knew that Bess would have been less likely to have been dragged into this if Nancy hadn't disappeared causing Bess to worry and call the Hardys'. She would have been happy at her job and in less danger than she was now. Nancy realized that she wouldn't be able to convince her friend to leave, but she felt a great need to protect her now that she was here because if anything did happen to her, it would be all on Nancy.

            "Alright, Bess. You know I'm always glad to have you here," Nancy said. She wrapped her arms around her head and took her in a hug. The hug was interrupted by a knock at the door.

            "Nancy? You ready?" Frank's muffled voice called through the door.

            "Yeah, come in." Nancy pulled away from Bess and stood up as Frank opened the door.

            "Did either of you even try to get dressed?" Frank demanded as he walked in and saw both of them in their pajamas. "Women!"

            "Shut-up," Nancy said smiling at him. "We had something important to discuss."

            Frank grinned knowingly as he winked at Bess. "I gotcha."

            "Besides, I wasn't going to change anyway. Since the main reason we're going to my room is for a change of clothes, I figured why put on something else."

            "That's very logical, Agent Drew, and maybe for the sake of saving time and just being less risky, you stay in those pajamas?" Frank's suggestive words made Bess's cheeks blush, feeling as if she'd dropped in on a private conversation.

            "Okay, okay, enough flirting," Bess said pushing the two of them out of the room. "Go get Nancy some clothes and come _right back_." Bess's stern motherly warning resulted in an over-exaggerated expression of disappointment followed by a rolling of eyes on Frank's face before he grabbed Nancy's hand and left the room.

            "So, did Joe tell you anything?" Nancy asked with some hesitation as they walked towards the elevator.

Frank shook his head. "No, he kept putting it off. Any luck with Bess?"

"Not really, we didn't really talk about it though." Frank could sense the underlay of something bigger and waited for Nancy to continue.

            As the elevator doors closed Nancy began retelling the conversation between her and Bess. Frank wrapped his arm around Nancy's shoulders midway through her explanation so that he was holding her close to him as she finished. "Bess is just as stubborn as the rest of us when she wants to be and as long as she's here, you know we're not going to let anything happen to her." Frank paused for a moment then grinned. "Especially, Joe."

            Nancy laughed and turned around in his arms. "You're the best. You know that?"

            Frank shifted his eyes upward as if in thought before bringing them back onto Nancy's. "I had an inkling." She placed a gentle kiss onto his lips and pulled away just as the elevator door opened. They stepped out onto the floor and Nancy led the way to her room.

            "You bring the key?" Frank asked. Nancy reached into the front of her tank top and pulled the magnetic key from between her breasts. Frank raised an eyebrow and Nancy shook her head smiling as she inserted the key and put her weight onto the door.

            "Oh my gosh!" Nancy murmured as she looked around the room. Frank immediately pushed Nancy behind him and drew his gun from its holster, thankful that he'd remembered to bring it.

            "Frank, there's probably no one—"

            "Shh." Frank motioned for Nancy to stay where she was as he crept forward. Everything in the room was torn apart. The sofa and its cushions had been slashed so that white cotton stumbled out onto the floor like a thick fog. Chairs were overturned. The television was in two pieces with the screen facedown on the carpet. Every drawer and cabinet had been emptied so that all its contents covered the floor. Even the package of complimentary coffee had been sliced so that coffee grounds made the kitchen look like it was covered in dirt.

            Frank stepped slowly and carefully over the destroyed furniture as he went to one bedroom then the other before coming back and placing his gun back in the holster.

            "Satisfied?" Nancy was standing there with her arms crossed watching him.

            "It wasn't like this a couple days ago," Frank insisted.

            "What?" Frank quickly explained his visit to her hotel room. Nancy extended her step as she reached to step over one of the shredded cushions.

            "What do you think they were looking for?" Nancy surveyed the wreckage.

            "My guess is that someone found out that I downloaded that information." Frank looked over at Nancy, worried.

            "Not only that, but they knew where you were staying." Nancy didn't say anything, but continued on her path to the bedroom. She went straight to her closet and pulled out her suitcase before pushing it aside in dismay. Frank looked over and saw that the entire inside had been sliced opened. Frank shuddered slightly trying to avoid thinking of what Nancy would have come across if she'd been here while they'd been destroying her things.

            Nancy went searching around amongst her scattered clothing and overturned drawers till she came up with a simple blue grocery bag. Then she began salvaging any clothing articles that for whatever reason she deemed fit for what could only be considered a dangerous and indefinite amount of time.

            Frank tried to cover a grin when Nancy passed him mumbling something about housekeeping going to hate her. She disappeared into the bathroom, a pile of folded clothes in hand. It was amusing to think that during a time when terrorists were secretly plotting to commit murder and they were the only one who knew about it that she could worry about the condition of her hotel room.

            "I think I've got what I need," Nancy said as she stepped out of the bathroom. Frank smiled appreciatively at her simple blue jeans that fit her body with a bit of fabric to spare. She wore a plain green t-shirt that fell just enough to cover the top button of her jeans. Frank knew if she were to lift her arms, he would get to see her toned stomach. Her blond hair was up in a ponytail and Bess's pajamas were folded and tucked under one arm and the plastic bag was filled to the brim with clothes in her other hand.

            "Great," Frank said with a smile he was desperately trying to rid his face of.

            "What?"

            "Nothing. Sorry, it's nothing."

            "Frank Hardy—" Nancy threatened.

            "You look good as a civilian."

_            "Jeans! Can you believe it! I get to wear jeans!" Nancy held up the pair of jeans she had from the suitcase of clothes underneath her bed. They had been given their first night off after four weeks of training to relax and do whatever they wanted. Nancy and Frank were preparing to take a night off and walk into town to catch dinner and a movie. _

_            "Yeah, it's great, Nan," Frank said looking at her like she was slightly crazy._

_            "Don't humor me. It's not sweats or cameo or some other light weight, industrial strength, earth-toned material. They're jeans. Blue all-American stylish skin-tight jeans. Never thought I'd miss them."_

_            "Do you realize how much you sound like Bess right about now?" Frank grinned at her glare._

_            "I don't even care." Nancy took her jeans and grabbed a shirt and disappeared into the bathroom she shared with the rest of the girls in her cabin. Frank couldn't help but smile at Nancy's enthusiasm. Sometimes it was the simplest things about her that made him love her even more. "Well?"_

_            Frank looked up from his thoughts and stared in awe at her. Though Frank had always approved of how Nancy looked in their daily work-out uniform, it never did her body justice. The skin-tight blue jeans she'd just talked about sent his heart thumping as he took in her long legs and shapely thighs. Her shirt was a simple light blue blouse that complimented her eyes and her freshly toned arms. A locket she'd once told him was her mother's rested lazily against her chest and towards her breasts that were slightly visible due to a couple of the top buttons she'd tactfully undone._

_            "Amazing," Frank breathed. Nancy smiled in satisfaction as she went to his side._

_            "Never thought I'd miss being a civilian." Frank walked over to her and slid his arms around her waist, his forearms resting on her sides. _

_            "I know I do." Nancy watched one side of his lips curl up in a half grin that was playful and mischievous. _

_            "What?"_

_            "You sure you don't want to stay in tonight?" _

_            Nancy's eyes widened and she shook her head in a vehement no. "Oh no, I didn't put on my jeans to just stay here."_

_            Frank pouted. "Are you going on a date with your jeans or me?"_

_            "The jeans of course! I see you all the time."_

_            Frank feigned hurt. "Now you're making me jealous. I guess you've got to take the jeans off."_

_            Nancy laughed as she pulled away from him and grabbed her jacket. "Not a chance. You have to deal with both of us. Now get your wallet, Hardy. You're treating us to a night on the town."_

            "It feels like so long ago," Nancy whispered.

            "Three years is a pretty long time." Nancy nodded. She slowly turned her head to look at him. Gone was the hurt and anger from his eyes that was present when they had first entered the apartment. Frank stepped forward and placed his arms around her. He pulled her against his chest and her head fell against him.

            "We're going to get through this, Nan. We're going to figure out who's behind this and then get back to us." Nancy didn't say anything. She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing in the comfort of Frank's arms before pulling away.

            "We should hit the road." Nancy led the way through the bedroom and into the kitchen. As Nancy was stepping through shredded couch pillows towards the door, Frank's eye caught sight of the blinking light on the phone and suddenly remembered the phone messages he'd listened to. Frank called to Nancy and briefly summed up the messages he'd heard. She considered listening to them herself, but decided against it.

            "I'm not surprised," Nancy said in reference to her boss. "Going back and groveling for my job isn't going to do me a lick of good. As soon as I solve this thing, we'll see whose side he's on." Frank knew she was right. Sometimes people wanted all the results without the commitment.

            Nancy opened the door and made her way into the hallway, bag in hand. As they waited for the elevator Frank couldn't help but glance at her, an unasked question on his face. She caught him before he could turn away.

            "What?"

            "I was just—Are you—your partner?" Frank didn't know why he couldn't just say what he wanted to say. The elevator opened and they stepped in. Nancy looked at him grinning.

            "Well, you see, Peter and I, while on an Op in Vegas, did get really drunk, elope and we are now in a stage of separation, with casual flings now and then." The look of horror on Frank's face made Nancy burst out laughing. "I'm kidding," she soothed. "We're close as far as partners go, but it's strictly professional." She placed an arm around his lower back. "You're my guy, so don't worry about my partner. Okay?" Frank nodded, relieved. He bent down and placed an apologetic kiss on her forehead. They stood there, with Frank's gently rubbing her back, till the elevator doors opened onto their floor. A few moments later they were back in the room.

            "Took you long enough," Joe commented as he carried his medium size suitcase and computer case into the living room. Frank briefly described what they'd found and Joe whistled.

            "We really need to see what it is you downloaded," he said to Nancy.

            "I've only glanced through it, but it didn't seem significant enough to ransack my room."

            "Well there must be something they don't want you to find," Frank put in.

            "Where's Bess?" Nancy asked looking around the room and not seeing her friend.

            "I suggested she get a head start to packing," he leaned forward as if he was whispering a secret, except that he spoke intentionally loudly. "I started after her and I still finished first."

            Bess stepped out of her room and glared at Joe. "I brought one suitcase to make it easier on everybody, which means I have to be more practical about how I fit things it. A concept I'm sure you're not aware of."

            "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

            "You're wrinkled shirt for one," Bess scoffed. Joe looked down at his shirt.

            "Hey, I—"

            "Enough," Frank broke in. "Any more from either of you and I'll send you to your rooms." Nancy laughed.

            "Way to play the dad." She looked up at him. "We might as well get to packing ourselves." The guys and girls separated into their perspective rooms and gathered their things together. Fifteen minutes later, they all met back in the living room ready to go. They made their way down to the lobby. The boys insisted they would take care of the room bill as Frank tossed the keys to Nancy so they could put their stuff in the Explorer.

            They stepped out the doors of the Holiday Inn and Nancy was surprised at how beautiful it was outside. Sometimes it was hard to believe the world could keep up its mundane routine when there were people like her who knew how much their way of life was threatened on a daily basis. _Ignorance is bliss. _

As the two girls approached the vehicle, Nancy used the car remote to open the doors. She stopped for a moment to reach into her backpack and try and locate her sunglasses when the next thing she knew, a wave of heat and energy knocked her backwards off her feet. She felt air being forced out of her lungs as she landed. Her backpack provided some cushioning as she fell, but she still felt gravel tear into her lower back and arms as she skidded across the parking lot. She instinctively flipped over and covered her head with her arms. She could feel stray pieces of glass land on her back and hands. As soon as it stopped she rolled over onto her side so she could look around for her friend.

"Bess?" She called before breaking into a fit of coughing. The Explorer was in flames. From the looks of it, the explosion had originated near the engine, which meant it hadn't reached the gas tank yet. She needed to find Bess and get away from the vehicle.

She rolled to her other side and immediately found her by the yellow tank top she'd picked out this morning. Her suitcase went about half the distance she did as it lay on its side very close to the burning wreckage. Bess was on her back. Her head was tilted away from Nancy, but she guessed she was unconscious.

            "Nancy!" Nancy looked up and saw Frank's frantic eyes take in the wrecked car and their crumpled figures.

            "Bess!" Nancy choked out, her breath still not fully returned. She struggled to sit up and Frank was there in a second.

            "Nan, don't move!" Frank insisted. Nancy watched as Joe ran to Bess's side and began his attempts to wake her. He was very careful not to move her too much. "What hurts?" Nancy looked back at Frank blankly, unable to focus on his question as she waited for her friend to show any form of movement.

            "Bess was close to the blast, is she okay?" Nancy demanded. Frank looked down at her, terror seemed to resonant in his brown eyes.

            Realizing that Nancy wasn't going to cooperate till her questions were answered Frank looked over and called to Joe. "Joe?"

            "She's breathing, but looks like she might have hit her head," Joe called back, his voice tight. Frank looked back at Nancy. Sirens echoed in the distance.

            "Nan," Frank said sternly as Nancy once again tried to get up. "You need to stay still. Does anything hurt?"

            "I'm fine," Nancy answered through clenched teeth. Aside from having the wind knocked out of her and a scraped back, her ribs seemed to be pounding against her chest.

            "You're not fine," Frank insisted.

She looked back over at Bess who seemed to be awake now and talking to Joe.

            Joe caught Nancy's gaze. "I think she's okay. Just a little headache."

            Bess uttered an emphatic grown. "Little headache? Speak for yourself." Nancy couldn't manage a laugh but she did give her a small smile.

"Now will you lie down and relax, please?" Nancy picked up on the slight tremor in Frank's voice as he nervously liked his lips while his eyes continued to plead with her. Nancy consented, slightly relieved that she could just not move till the pain in her ribs became a dull pain. The next moment the ambulance arrived and paramedics surrounded the two girls. Joe and Frank were forced to the sides but they hovered close to hear what was being said.

"Anything hurt?" The paramedic asked as he listened to Nancy's chest.

"No, I just had the wind knocked out of me and scraped my back a little." He put his stethoscope around his neck and took a look at her back. It was bleeding somewhat but the wound seemed to be superficial and the paramedic cleaned and bandaged it easily. He then instructed her to lie back down as he gently applied pressure over vital organs around her stomach to check their sensitivity. Nancy hissed in pain as his movements caught a section of bruising from the accident. He looked at her sharply.

"Does that hurt?"

"Yes, but it's another injury from a car accident. It's nothing."

"I would like to take a look at it." He carefully pulled up her shirt and took in the glaring bruises. "Did you see a doctor about this?"

"Yes," Nancy lied as she pulled down her shirt. "Said I would just be sore for about week."

The paramedic looked at her doubtfully. "I would still like to take you in to make sure your lungs are all right and that you don't have any cracked ribs."

"Not necessary, but thank you," Nancy said as she stood up. Frank was at her side instantly.

"Nancy—" Frank started.

"No," Nancy murmured back. "I can't afford to be in the hospital. I'd be a sitting duck for whoever is after us."

"Nan, this could be serious. You don't know what's been injured and it could just get worse later!" Nancy understood Frank was worried about her, but she knew the detective side of him understood the risks as well.

"_No_," she emphasized to him while looking at the paramedic.

"Alright, ma'am. Then if you just sign this form that we treated you on-site and you refused to go to the hospital you can go." Nancy took the clipboard he offered her and skimmed the words briefly. "However, if you feel any shortness of breath, stomach pains, nausea, drowsiness or dizziness that you seek medical attention immediately."

"She will," Frank assured him. Nancy flashed him a look as she handed him the signed clipboard. Nancy and Frank walked in silence over to where Bess and Joe were sitting.

            "I really would feel better if you went to the hospital," Joe said to Bess as she hoped off the back of the truck.

            "I'll go when Nancy goes." Joe looked over at Nancy disapprovingly for a moment. "I'm fine really, Joe."

            "Fine is the worst adjective ever, I swear," Joe said shaking his head. "At the first sign of a concussion, you're going to the hospital."

            "Excuse me." The group of four all turned to see a police officer standing in front of them, pen in hand. "I need to get statements from those of you involved in the explosion.

            "Of course," Nancy said wearily. As the police officer pulled the girls aside to talk to them individually, Frank and Joe found themselves standing together.

            "This is bad," Frank spoke first staring at the remains of their vehicle. The firefighters had put it out while the paramedics had been looking for the girls. The Explorer was pretty much indistinguishable as a car.

            "No kidding, the rental agency's going to kill us," Joe mumbled.

            "I'm not sure who they were targeting."

            "Does it really matter?"

            "No, but this bothers me."

            "Really, the car exploding bothers you?"

            Frank ignored his brother's sarcastic comment. "I mean, they didn't rig the car to explode when the ignition was started, which would have guaranteed that we were in the car."

            Joe nodded slowly, understanding what his brother was getting at. "And they obviously didn't have someone with a remote on site, otherwise they would have made sure they could have done more damage."

            "A threat?"

            "Maybe." The two brothers pondered over the possibilities in silence for a moment before Frank spoke. "Either way, they're onto us."

            "They were lucky," Joe said gravely.

            "Yeah," Frank agreed. He couldn't help but wonder: _Can we solve this before our luck runs out?_


End file.
